


Winter in the Winds

by AnneEden



Series: Winter's Song [1]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Canon Compliant, F/M, Past Abuse, R plus L equals J, Slow Burn, post 6x10
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-08-28
Updated: 2017-07-17
Packaged: 2018-08-11 12:01:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 39
Words: 84,901
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7891345
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnneEden/pseuds/AnneEden
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>I plan on making this about 30 chapters I suppose.  I'll try to post a chapter per day if time allows.</p><p>Post 6x10</p><p>Canon Compliant.  Trying to rush some action.  Some theories come to life beyond R+L=J</p><p>After Jon is named the King in the North the Starks must rebuild Winterfell and prepare for the fight against the Army of the Undead, but Westeros won't let them escape playing the Game of Thrones.</p><p>First Timer. Comments keep me going.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. JON

JON

 

A fortnight had passed since the Lords of the North proclaimed Jon their King. King in the North, just like they had done for his half brother Robb. Jon did not think himself worthy of his brother’s title. Robb was the true born son of Ned Stark, why should the same title befall to him? SNOW. He was a Snow. He never felt worthy of the title Lord Commander either as a Snow. That endeavor had not ended well for him. He had no taste for politics and yet here he was a King.

He knew despite his uneasiness with his title there must be a purpose to this life. If not to defeat the White Walkers when the Long Night falls upon them again then it was to reclaim his family’s seat. A Stark was in Winterfell again, even if it was not him.

Lady Stark, or Sansa, she had demanded he call her, had helped Jon at every turn. She had learned much during her time in the South in Kings Landing and in the East he supposed too... with Lord Baelish. He did not like thinking of him with her so he put that thought out of his mind. Thankfully Lord Baelish was no longer gracing them with his presence. He and most of the other Lords had left Winterfell as Jon had instructed. They were to gather their men and report back to Winterfell with their men in 3 fortnights time. Jon was happy to have this time to prepare. He had thought that most of this preparation would be done in the training yard but he quickly realized his training was every evening with Sansa. She had proven to be his best advisor. Every raven Jon received and every correspondence, assembly, and petition Sansa gently listened and advised. In public, she sat next to him at council. Always silent but when he looked over to her she gave him slight smiles of approval. Alone in his solar she spoke more freely. She urged him to take actions he would not have and they were always well received. 

At first Jon believed his presence comforted her. Knowing she could feel safe again in Winterfell under his protection. But just as much as he protected her she protected him... from making mistakes. He came to understand the logic in her decisions. Thinking of all the possible implications a single ruling would have for years rather than only thinking of the task at hand. He had come to find he needed her as much as he believed she needed him. 

This night, like every other, Sansa walked into his chamber. Ghost was with her as he had been since they reclaimed Winterfell. When Lady Brienne returns perhaps Jon would get his dire wolf back, for she was the only person Jon could trust to look after Sansa save himself. Sansa was wearing a house cloak and her shift underneath. Hair was loose from her braids. Her long auburn hair reminded him of Ygritte. He had loved Ygritte but he knew she was no where near as beautiful as Lady Sansa. He looked down in disgust as he thought of how Ramsay had dishonored his sister. Nobody would do that to his sister, the true born daughter of Eddard Stark, as long as Jon was alive. He had vowed to keep her safe and if she must marry again he would be sure that man never hurt any of her fire-kissed hairs on her beautiful head. He did not know a man worthy of her but that would be a choice for her to make. Choice, he thought. He would love the day she chose a man because no such choice had ever been brought before her. Sure Joffery was an interest of hers but no, once she knew him she would not have chose him. Tyrion Lannister, Willas Tyrell, Robin Arryn, Harry Hardyng, Ramsay Bolton, Petyr Baelish none of them were Sansa’s choice. Nobody will force her again to do anything that displeased her and with that thought he gave a small smile. 

She held three pieces of parchment. She talked of Winterfell and how the repairs were coming along. He spoke of the training yard and how Davos and Tormund had made progress with the young men. 

Jon also took this time to tell Sansa that a stone mason had finished the statue of Rickon to be placed in the crypts. She moved from her seat so quickly Jon barely had the time to stand before she threw her arms around him. Jon did not know what to do so he held her and waited for her to break the embrace. As she pulled her body from his a single tear rolled down her cheek. Tears came to Jon's eyes too as it pained him to see her cry but he did not let his tears fall as he must remain strong for her, his sister, his Lady Sansa. He gently wiped the tear from her face with the back of his hand. Her hand came to meet his and she steadied her breathing. Jon did not know what he could say so he decided to wait for her to gauge what she wanted from him, at the time he thought she just needed his hand to hold.

After what felt like both an eternity and not long enough Sansa stirred and Jon thought their moment together over.

"I did not know you had Rickon placed in the crypts." Sansa said as she let their hands drop from her face but kept them clasped at her side. 

"Aye. He was a true born son of Lord Eddard and was the rightful Lord of Winterfell while he was here. Ramsay had no place here but Rickon always will." 

Jon let go and moved to his desk. He picked up a small sword and came back to Sansa. He held it before her, searching for her approval. She knew its purpose. 

"All the Starks are buried with their swords, you had this made for Rickon like you made that awful sword for Arya." A small laugh broke through as her tears dried.

"Aye. Will you join me on the morrow when we place it in the crypts?"

Sansa dried her face and took the sword.

"Of course." 

She gathered herself again as she had not addressed the more pressing matters. She sat back across from Jon and shuffled her papers. She reached across to him and looked him square in his eyes. They were not the eyes of the Stark - gray - like his and Arya's but they were more Tully - blue, piercing - but they were like ice and that suited the daughter of the North. 

"Thank you." She said locking her gaze on him. He broke the stare as he looked down, uncomfortable at looking at such a beauty straight on.

She looked down at her papers and he was brought back to being a King and not a brother.

The first piece of parchment was a letter from Lord Cerwyn. He had some 2,000 men so he was very important to Jon’s cause and to the North. He was loyal but both Sansa and Jon thought him a coward. He had his reasons he supposed to bend the knee to Lord Bolton after his father had been flayed and perhaps he would show his strength in the battles to come in repentance of not fighting for his father. Lord Cerwyn had written asking for another month to see to his Lady Wife. She was heavy with child and expected a babe after the date the men were meant to return to Winterfell. Jon looked at Sansa, he knew she already had planned his course of action. 

“I believe he should be able to meet his heir.” Jon said, looking nervously at Sansa for approval, “might provide him some motivation to win in the battles to come.” 

Sansa nodded. "Yes, Jon I believe you are right."

Jon was relieved to hear that. 

Sansa continued, "Castle Cerwyn is very close to Winterfell, perhaps the closest keep to us. Might she come to Winterfell? When you depart I surely would not mind having company here and is Winterfell not the best hold in the North. The babe would be safest here with the guards you plan to leave.”

Jon smiled as he nodded. “Aye, Sansa, we agree.” 

She smiled back. 

He knew she did not want him to start letting Lords get their way against his orders even if it was for a reason he believed honorable. Lord Stark had not been there for the birth of Robb but he knew it pained him as he did not miss the birth of another. Jon remembered all the other Stark brothers and sisters being born and his Lord father had actually been in the room with his wife. In particular he remembered being in Winterfell when Bran was being brought into this world. Robb had been more than excited to have another brother after being disappointed with Sansa and then Arya. A true born brother. He hadn’t said that to Jon but if Robb did not feel that way he knew Lady Catelyn had. Robb had made Jon wait with him outside his parents chambers. Sansa was asleep and Arya was just a babe but the excitement of the brother Maester Luwin had promised kept Robb awake that night. Finally they heard the tiniest of screams. Robb could not contain himself and burst into the chamber. “Is it true.... Is it as you promised....Is it a brother?” Robb had said with excitement. Lord Eddard was at the bedside with Catelyn as Maester Luwin handed the babe to their father as he smiled at Catelyn. “Yes young Lord, I believe you may call him Bran though.” Lord Eddard had the babe in one arm and the other comforting his lady wife. Robb looked at the babe and shouted for Jon to come look. Jon had been waiting sheepishly by the door. He did not want to upset Lady Catelyn on the day of her son's birth. Lord Eddard nodded and to his surprise even Lady Catelyn tilted her head to come in, she was so happy with providing her lord husband another son she was not even bothered by Jon’s presence. He wondered if Lord Stark had been there with his mother. Had he held her hand and patted her brow as he had seen him do with Lady Catelyn? Had he been the first to hold Jon as he had been the first to hold Bran? But these were questions for another life and Sansa was ready to move onto the next parchment.

“Lord Manderly reports that some sailors in White Harbor have been talking of ships being built in the Iron Islands. He does not worry about White Harbor’s safety but he wishes to bring it to his Kings attention.” Sansa said as she handed him the note that had arrived by raven. 

“When do you expect Lady Brienne arrive from the Riverlands?” Jon asked. 

“Any day, her raven was received 5 days ago and she should be here by dusk tomorrow.” Sansa replied quickly, prepared to give the answer.

Jon knew she already knew the reason in his line of questioning. When she arrives have Lady Brienne report to me and send Lord Davos as well. If it is Theon building these we may find a new ally in him and his sister if reports of her character are true. Balon was confirmed dead but Iron Islanders did not treat succession as the Lords of Westeros do and he was not sure if Theon would claim the Salt Throne.

"We must know who is in control of the Iron Islands and what the intent of these ships are ... Jon said firmly. He thought for a moment as Sansa without saying a word, lifted a brow and silently told him he must think more thoroughly ... 

"but we must be cautious not to stir any Krakens, last thing we need is reaving and raping to contend with when the real battle is upon us"

Sansa seemed satisfied with his plan of action and was shuffling for the last parchment. She took a breath and Jon realized there was uneasiness in her as she began. “We received a raven from Lord Tyrion, Hand of the Queen..."


	2. Cersei

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cersei post 6x10

She did not miss the look her brother had given her during her coronation. But who was he to judge her...he was gone when her back was against the wall. Like a Lioness she had to fight through her enemies. She had clawed her way to this throne without Jamie. She was not excited to meet him as she would have years ago. She was changed with the death of her last child and Jamie's look told her he knew that fact as well. 

She left her chamber with the note from Qyburn tightly clenched in her hand. This would be her only salvation with her brother. 

He earned his title, Kingslayer in an effort to protect the city from Aerys and his wildfire caches. The very wildfire she used to kill her enemies. Jamie had no love for the Mad King. He raped his Queen he had told Cersei and his fascinations with burning men had given Jamie nightmares. She knew him to be mad, and with that Jamie had no qualms with killing a madman, it was his breaking his Oath that tormented him. When he had to choose between family and his oath to a madman and he chose family. As she walked to his chamber she hoped he would choose his duty to his family once more.

She did not knock on his door, aside from the fact that she was Queen and did not have to, she wanted to seem to Jamie as she always was and Cersei had never knocked before ... when things were different and it was a false spring. She had placed too much trust in him in the past and just as with Joffery and Myrcella, Jamie could not save Tommen. Their children were dead and neither of them could stop the gods from taking them. 

Jamie looked up at her, his eyes hollow. 

She spoke first. "A raven...Tyrion is returning."

She knew this was the last thing he had been prepared to talk to her about. She was sure he had planned to denounce her, perhaps abandon her for Casterly Rock, perhaps begrudgingly he would have stayed but with this Cersei had made sure Jamie would stay.

Their brother had killed their father. Jamie did not always do as their father had wished...taking the Kingsguard Vows namely ... but Jamie did love their father. Just as Jamie had loved their brother, much to Cersei's dismay. Cersei had no love for Tyrion and the whole kingdom had known it. He killed their mother and for what? A monster? And he had killed Joff, her firstborn and for that Cersei would never forgive. Cersei had always done as her father bid her and yet she gained no favor in Lord Tywin's eyes. It pained Jamie that Tywin was displeased with him and his choices but Tyrion always had done as he pleased and did not care what their Lord father would think. Cersei had subjected herself to Robert Baratheon's bed and Jamie to the whims of the Mad King while Tyrion ran off with whores all under Tywin's nose and no consequence ever befell to him. Sure he was never named heir but how could Tyrion have expected that with the Golden Knight Jamie Lannister alive and his eldest. Kings guards vows could be set aside and Jamie could still be an eligible bachelor to some Lady of a lesser House. That is what Tywin had thought, Cersei was sure of that, but she knew Jamie could never love another or take a wife. His love for her broke him but she knew he was completely hers and not even Lord Tywin the most powerful man in the Seven Kingdoms could take that away from them. The worst thing Tyrion had to endure was to be 'married' to the wolf pup Sansa Stark. Cersei knew it was no real marriage but how could Tyrion really complain about his station when he was given the keys to the north and a pretty wife to go along with it. Again, she thought, Tyrion always acted against Tywin's orders and not a single consequence. It raged her to think about him. 

Her thoughts were scattered. She poured wine for herself and tried to regain control of the topic at hand. "I know you let him escape" ... "You did not know he would kill father." 

She looked for his reaction but there was none so she continued, changing her tactic.

"I wish father was here" a tear came to her eye. "He would have never let this happen, Tommen..."

She cried true tears for Tommen. She was a cruel lioness, true, but for her children, she was as caring as any other mother. Cersei loved her children dearly and it was the death of her three lion cubs that had undone her. 

"Father would have had a way, there was no way..." 

Sobs would not stop now.

"You did not know he would kill Father"

She hunched as breathing was not easy with this emotion coming over her, all the things she did not let herself feel. Her children were gone. Her father was gone, Jamie...she thought would he leave me? 

After what felt like an eternity to Cersei, Jamie finally moved to comfort his sister. 

"You have to stay, to make it right. For father..."

Jamie wrapped his arms around her, pulling her into him, not in the way lovers would but it was enough for Cersei to know she had won. Her brother would not leave her to fight this battle alone, this time not against the rose but against the dragon.


	3. Davos

Davos

All of the qualities that Davos had admired in King Stannis he saw in Jon Snow. Jon was fair and just and if the stories of Lord Eddard are true his equally as honorable son would make the best King Davos could think of. Stannis had been fair to him but in the end, Davos reailized, where Stannis sought victory at all costs, Jon would never be that ruthless. 

About 700 of the men that had deserted Stannis had made there way back to Winterfell when Jon had been proclaimed King in the North. Davos, and unfortunately for Davos, Tormund had been charged with training these men and others to sort the loyal from the turn cloaks and to make soldiers out of an untested lot. It seemed that these men were not any deserters but had been so mortified at Stannis burning his only daughter in heir in lust for victory in battle that it drove them to flee, no longer wanting to fight for this King when honorable Northern Lords could always use men. 

In 2 days time he would lead this party to the Karhold and claim it for himself by decree of King Jon. Tormund and his wildling party were to do the same at Last Hearth the former seat of the Umbers who had allied with Ramsay and betrayed young Rickon Stark. Both campaigns would be overwhelming successes as most all the men died fighting for Ramsay and none of the holds needed the supplies that Jon was offering. The women and children from the Karhold would be split up and forced to move to other Northern Holds and any loyalties would be lost and no uprisings could occur. The free-folk that remained were about three thousand as none of the women and children had been lost in the battle. They would need a place to settle and Last Hearth suited their needs and they were used to the harsh conditions that close to the wall. Davos had never been to Karhold but as a former smuggler and proven sailor Karhold and its position on the Shivering Sea was more than Davos could have hoped to be granted in his lifetime. As for the Dreadfort, it was to be abandoned. When they have more time Jon would see to it completely leveled. Sansa wanted no reminders that the Boltons had ever walked this world and Jon would see it through. For now those women there would be placed under Lady Mormont’s custody and nobody had any doubt that she would see them set straight and would make them remember the North.

Davos was grateful to his new King and respected his ways but he knew from his time as Hand to Stannis that Jon would have to solidify his power in the North if he meant to keep it. The political maneuverings and the tensions in rest of the Kingdom weighed on Davos's mind. Jon needed allies in the South. He needed to retake the Riverlands from his enemies the Freys and he needs to ally with the Crown in the South even if he had no intention of ever marching on Cersei, she must be dealt with either by treaty or by warfare.

Davos shook at the thought of a marriage between Cersei and Jon. Had Cersei been the maiden of years ago he might have smiled at that thought. He remembered when the kingdom loved their beautiful golden queen as she married the brave warrior King Robert Baratheon. He had just been a smuggler then but every port and every seaside village spoke of the beauty of Her Grace. 

Stannis had spoken to Davos of his brother’s whoring ways and Davos supposed that that had worn on the once beautiful Queen. It had made her bitter and where she could have kept her country’s favor, she turned inward and refused to be seen by the small folk and the Court alike. She kept to herself in the keeps of the castle and when she was seen a scowl was on her otherwise beautiful face. Whispers were always spoken about the Queen’s ambition but Davos did not believe her capable of her actions when Sansa had told he and Jon of the news from Kings Landing. Sansa received a raven only two days after Jon becoming King. This Kingdom was changing quickly and this political chaos could give way to unpredictable outcomes if Jon and Sansa could not take control of their interests.

Lord Baelish was still at Winterfell when that news came. He had urged Sansa to come back to the Eyrie with him as it’s natural fortification is safer than most keeps, even Winterfell, he had said. Davos knew Jon would not allow him to take her and was surprised at Jon’s response. It gave Davos a chuckle to think of how Jon agreed to Lord Baelish’s plan the next day and said that he would be joining them as well. How the Eyrie would be a more central location for his plans to recapture the Riverlands and how he could count on Lord Baelish to join him in battle as he would know the Riverlands and Riverrun better than most having being raised as a ward there. Lord Baelish was uneasy with this but Sansa finally interrupted and said “There Must Always be a Stark in Winterfell” and that she would be staying but mayhaps he could still assist Jon when they would eventually take the Riverlands. Davos knew they had planned that together and was happy Lord Baelish would not be taken the Lady of Winterfell away from her home.

Davos thought of Sansa. How different she was from Cersei in every way. Where Cersei had hidden herself away, Sansa made every effort to be seen. She was in the courtyards of Winterfell everyday seeing to repairs. She was in the kitchens helping the ladies and maids provide meals for the influx of soldiers. She was in every small council meeting - which was a very small council indeed that had only included himself, Tormund, and Lady Mormont until she left for Bear Island. He was glad to be trusted again by another King and he wanted to earn the trust of the Lady Sansa too. He thought her a good woman who would make a better Queen than Cersei ever had, shame she would never get that opportunity . The pain she had endured at the hands of men had made her resilient and strong, not bitter and vengeful as it had to Cersei. He thought her capable as any and her spirit got many of their servants and small folk though the hard days work as she rolled up her sleeves and dirtied her skirts alongside them. He thought he had earned her respect but he hoped one day he might earn her trust. 

It seemed now that she only truly trusted Lady Brienne, and her brother Jon of course. Lady Brienne would be returning today and Davos would be happy to have her back to assist in the yards and comfort Lady Sansa. While Sansa had put on a strong face during the day, at nights he had heard her screams through the halls of Winterfell. Neither Jon nor Sansa claimed the Lord’s Chamber out of respect to the other. She instead moved into her old chamber she had shared with Arya years ago and he moved into, as Davos understood it, Bran’s old chamber. Davos had been granted what was once Rickon’s chamber as it was too painful for either Sansa or Jon to think of the brother they had seen die before their eyes. The Lord’s chamber remained emptied and Jon had seen that Tormund take what was Robb’s old chamber. It may have been fine for Jon or Sansa to sleep in Robb’s chamber as it was large and they both had fond memories of Robb, but it was also the chamber Sansa had shared with Ramsay. Jon had Tormund and 5 wildlings remove everything from that chamber and burn every possession that was not of any use. Tormund took the knives and weapons but repurposed most of them so that if Sansa ever caught sight of them it would not recognize them as they were and not serve as a reminder of him. Tormund then proceeded to decorate the room in his own fashion. He had never had a true chamber before and he took this opportunity to make himself at home. It started out looking like the inside of a tent but before long Tormund had vases sometimes broken and tapestries he found along with tusks and other wildling-like decorations in his chamber. It was an unusual arrangement but who could argue with Tormund when simply said “Looks better like this.” and that was the end of it. Davos was pleased that Sansa could no longer recognize it as her old chamber at least. When Lady Brienne returns she will move into Arya’s portion of the room and Lady Sansa may find some peace in the nights. Davos had sent Ghost to her and it seemed to help but he did not know if anything - even time - could heal her wounds.

Davos made his way through the yards. Speaking to the ten best of Stannic’s men about the rest of the days training and their plans beyond today. He spoke to them of the arrangements and their mounts they would take as they left for Karhold and other matters about the days ahead as his men. Jon was with Tormund on the other side of the yard sparring with wooden swords with boys that he wondered if they had seen their tenth name day. Those lads would be left behind for now but Jon was thinking of Winterfell’s future. He knew he thought of what protection he might offer his sister as he marched away from Winterfell’s gates. Davos would have to sort out what parties stayed behind at Winterfell and he knew some of the best men would never see battle as Jon would only want the best for his sister.

The gates opened and Davos was surprised it was not Lady Brienne and Podrick, her squire, but two men of the Night’s Watch.


	4. Tyrion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tyrion muses at the possibility of alliances and is informed about the state of the Realm.

TYRION

The Dornish heat did not suit Tyrion but it was much more comfortable than any boat. He knew there was a possibility of having to board another ship in the days to come but he hoped that he might avoid that with his letters. 

Lord Tywin knew that not all wars were won on the battlefield and Tyrion saw reason in this, what an accomplishment that would be to win Dany her kingdom without a single battle. He was getting ahead of himself and when he thought of his sister's true nature he realized that he was being too optimistic.

Varys, Illyria, Ollena, and Yara all informed him of the state of Westeros. He learned what he could and now it was up to him to sort a plan for Dany to recapture her throne.

He had admiration for Yara. She reminded him of Jamie. Although Yara could have abandoned Theon long ago she fought for him even when he would not fight for himself. Theon was a broken man that was plain to see, but his sister was seeing to him now and he was starting to know what it meant to have a family. Yara gave him small tasks, trusting him every day with a little more responsibility. He knew to sail well enough but Yara was making sure he knew what it meant to be a ruler. To be among the men and crew. To gain the Ironborn's respect just as she had. Tyrion saw that Yara was saving her brother, as Jamie had saved him when he could. He wondered if Jamie would try to reason with Cersei or if she would be beyond that by the time the Dragon Fleet landed upon Kings Landing. Yara had told Dany and of course Tyrion, her Hand, much of her Uncle. Euron had not met them at sea which was both good and bad. He had not played his hand but Tyrion knew that he must have more ships, more men, and perhaps a better plan given this time to prepare. Cersei had seized the Throne from the Faith. He dreaded the thought of Euron and Cersei joining forces as Euron had wanted to do with Dany. He knew his sister would not marry again but perhaps she would at the promise of a thousand Iron Born ships. He could not speculate what Cersei may do - her madness was beyond any sort of logic, Tyrion knew.

Olenna had met them when they landed on Dorne. She sent her ships but the old woman felt no need to be on them during the travel from the East to Dorne. He could not blame her, even if she had been much younger, for not wanting to make the journey and cross the Narrow Sea.

Olenna surprisingly confided in Tyrion. He knew her to be adept at the Game of Thrones and thought she might still try to make some sort of play for power. She was a broken woman though, with the death of her beloved Margery it was plain to see it still wore on her. In every way Olenna had grew her crowned rose, Maiden Margery, into the perfect gamepiece for the game of thrones. She was in many ways Olenna of days past, a pretty maid with a brain and loyalty to her house. It was as if Olenna was looking at a mirror when she looked at her granddaughter. She still regretted not seeing Mace and Jamie Lannister’s plan through, she had confided in Tyrion, Olenna had put too much faith in her Margery and Margery let the High Sparrow's mistake become her undoing. That mistake was underestimating Cersei and Tyrion saw that Olenna would never forgive herself.

Tyrion knew Mace had two other sons, Willas - a cripple - and Harlan - who had never been to court - so her house was not in total ruin. Olenna confided in many of her past schemes with Tyrion and he saw the truth in them. He thought she was not playing this game any longer. With these confessions she trusted Tyrion and Tyrion saw she was speaking honestly as Tyrion realized the schemes she spoke of had truths in them.

Tyrion had known Margery would not have remained a Baratheon. He saw it so easily now that he was away from Kings Landing but heard it from the Queen of Thorns lips as to their ultimate plan to seize the crown. Joffery had to be killed … true. Tyrion saw the reason in that even though he had not done it himself, despite what was common belief. Olenna had confessed to him that she had poisoned him at his wedding. She had orchestrated Sansa’s exit of Kings Landing and had trusted Littlefinger to take her to the Eryie. She was to frame Ser Dontos and in the chaos - Littlefinger had proposed - Lady Sansa might escape as everyone knew her life in Kings Landing was a nightmare. 

Cersei had not allowed Ser Dontos to take the fall and with Tyrion being a cupbearer to a poisoned King it was hard to argue Tyrion had not done the deed. Olenna trusted that Lord Tywin would not have let Tyrion die so she did not feel bad that Tyrion had taken the fall. Olenna had wanted to eventually bring Sansa to High Garden and hoped that she might find favor with Willas. She was a nice girl and he a nice boy and Tyrion saw it would have been a good match for Sansa. Willas was not Loras, a noble and chivalrous Knight he knew Sansa had once dreamt of, but she would have had no use for Loras in marriage. Even Tyrion was a better match for Sansa than Loras...Tyrion remembered Olenna calling him a sword-swallower or pillow-biter in describing him during their conversations. She was blunt but Tyrion appreciated her honesty when many ladies would not have broached that sort of subject. When he thought of Sansa and Loras or Sansa and Willas or even Sansa and himself he thought he could have been happy for Sansa if any of those matches came to be but he shook with anger when he thought of Sansa and Littlefinger. He wished Olenna had not granted him the honor of being her savior.

Olenna had enough trouble with the faith and Cersei blocking the Tyrells from gaining power at every turn to return her efforts to Sansa and getting her to Highgarden. As it stood Sansa was wanted by the Crown and Olenna must rid herself of Cersei before she could return her thoughts to Sansa and Willas. 

The Faith had wielded a weapon that was very powerful - the small folk. When the commoners sided with the High Sparrow it would be hard to gain both the crown and favor of the people if they did not work with the Faith for some time. One enemy at a time ... so first they must rid themselves of Cersei. That plan was well on its way as she was to stand her own trail. 

Margery had realized how difficult the task before her was and even though Olenna begged her to leave for Highgarden... but she had wanted to continue. Her Margery had sense enough to try to stay and regain control of the throne by playing the High Sparrow and gaining his favor. Olenna knew she could not blame Margery for wanting to save Loras as well. Her brother and companion in Kings Landing, two roses in a Lions Den that had been consumed by sparrows. 

Had Margery succeeded in her plan she would have left Kings Landing with her brother for Highgarden after his trial. Tommen had no heir. Without Margery pushing him in the proper directions and Cersei dead after her own trial Tommen would surely meet his demise at the Hands of the High Sparrow. Then the Tyrells would have the best claim for the throne through marriage as all the Baratheons had died. Tyrion had heard Margery was interested in obtaining moon tea before her marriage to Joffery and he supposed she would have not let Tommen get a babe on her either. It did not suit Margery to be married to such men- his nephews. Weak boys. Margery would have seen Loras or Willas to the crown and taken another husband and become the Lady of Highgarden perhaps. It would be easy for her to find a Lord of a lesser house in the Reach, some Fossaway or perhaps a Redwynne cousin would be suitable but none that would rival her willfulness and intellect. Maybe she could have married Robb Stark in the North at one point in her life had Lady Catelyn had her way. After Renly’s death the Tyrells must have thought it an option at one point but it was riskier as the North never really had interests in the Iron Throne anyway. Jamie could have been a good match for her had he not had a tragic bond with his twin. Jamie could have matched her intellect and he had been trained by Cersei for many years in the Game of Thrones. Yes, Tyrion thought, Margery needed a companion in the Game of Thrones that could rival her own political maneuverings but also a strong man to steady a willful wife. She likely never would have found it. 

As much as he learned from Olenna and Yara it was perhaps Theon provided Tyrion the most interesting information. 

One night as the fleet travelled across the Narrow Sea Theon made his way to Tyrion's ship. Tyrion had been in his cups and thought he might learn what had happened to the once cocky and unruly son of Balon Greyjoy. Why the change in his personality? Tyrion needed to understand his change. Tyrion indeed learned what had befallen of this poor excuse for a man. His time in Winterfell was not the homecoming Theon had hoped for. After his own siege of Winterfell had gone awry the Boltons took him prisoner and Roose had let his son Ramsay take him as his personal play thing. 

Tyrion had heard of Roose Bolton’s bastard and his demented ways long ago. When Tyrion was in Kings Landing he was just a bastard and he had no real claim to any seat. Many Lords had bastards and most did not concern themselves with these Snows, Stones, Storms, Sands, and Flowers that were throughout the Seven Kingdoms. There were far too many but if Tyrion had heard of the bastard Ramsay Snow and his ways then he knew he must have had very demented tastes indeed. It was said that he took many wildling and Nights Watch deserters prisoner should they stumble into his many traps around the Dreadfort. He had heard when Ramsay was young it was flaying he used to torture and kill these unfortunate souls. Lord Eddard beheaded these men and wildlings. It was the law and Ned Stark took no joy in doing this duty. Ramsay he had heard took great joy in every kill. Tyrion had heard Ramsay grew tired of simple flayings with age and that eventually Roose let his bastard hunt men, making a game out of their executions. He used his dogs and played games with the convicted and he did not give them the gift of death until it the very last moment, extending their torture and pain until the last possible moment. When Tyrion had learned Littlefinger had married Sansa to this man he knew Littlefinger had heard of these games too. How could he not have known - a man who made it his business to know as many whispers as he could. Little finger knew what danger he had placed Tyrion’s former wife in…Littlefinger’s ambition knew no bounds and Tyrion grew angry when he thought of Sansa in Ramsay's bed.

Theon spared Tyrion of most of the details but Tyrion knew he was made to watch the acts Ramsay performed on her and that her body had been marked by her husband. 

Tyrion remembered his wedding night to Sansa. Joffrey had wanted a bedding but Tyrion had stood up to him and said there would be none. Tyrion had gotten quite drunk at the thought of bedding a maid of ten and four. She was beautiful but to Tyrion she was a girl, not a woman. He had never wanted to join a woman in bed that did not want him there. Sansa upon the thought of sleeping with him drank an entire goblet of wine and began to undress. She was down to her shift before Tyrion told her to stop undressing. He looked upon her longer than he should. Her beauty was great even at such a young age when most girls were awkward and had not come into their looks Sansa was already one of the great beauties of the Seven Kingdoms. He knew she must be far more beautiful now. Any other Lord would have taken advantage of this marriage but not Tyrion, he did not want his wife to dread their coupling. He had told her that he would only join her in the marriage bed when she wanted him there. He then promptly passed out on a couch where he slept every night while they were wed. Sansa thought Tyrion a monster, although it was her second husband that was the true monster.

Theon had told the council of the state of the North and of how King Stannis had marched on Winterfell but had fallen to Bolton forces. Theon and Sansa took that opportunity to escape. He told them of Lady Brienne taking Sansa to Jon but that he heard of rumors that the Night’s Watch had another mutiny as they had killed Lord Commander Mormont they had plan to kill Jon Snow but somehow he escaped. That Jon Snow had taken Lady Sansa and a wildling army to reclaim Winterfell after his brothers betrayed him. Tyrion could be happy in that fact as Jon was a good man and he knew he could feel confident aligning Dany with the North if he sat as Lord of Winterfell. Tyrion again hoped Sansa would remember him fondly and tell her brother of his kindness when the time came to make alliances. Perhaps she might take Tyrion back as her Lord Husband, he could not protect her like Jon could but no one could deny Tyrion had her best interests in mind while he was her husband. But Tyrion was getting ahead of himself, he thought, and he had much more pressing concerns than to think of his former wife who thankfully was safely in the custody of her brother.

Varys had little birds report to him in Dorne as well. The realm had not known a better master of secrets, and Varys was able to fill Tyrion in on the rest of the maneuverings in the realm. The holes in the stories of Olenna, Theon and Yara were filled by Varys and Tyrion believed he knew as much as he could as to the true state of the realm. Jon was not Lord of Winterfell as Theon and Tyrion might had thought…he was King. King in the North as he had fought the bravest of battles against Ramsay and the Bolton army. Three of the most ancient houses in the North had revolted - Karstark, Umber, and Bolton - and Jon had to rebuild the North which would take some time. Varys assured Tyrion that none of the whispers had told of Jon eyeing the Iron Throne and that the North and what lay beyond the wall was Jon's only concern. The Wildlings were being called “Free Folk” now and apparently he was allowing them to settle in the lands of the North. Varys had said that what King Jon had seen North of the Wall during his time with the Watch was enough for him to take pity on these Free Folk and he sought to protect them against those horrors. Tyrion had heard of the undead army from the tales but he wondered if it was truly what Jon had seen. Of course this was a different time and Tyrion had never dreamt of seeing dragons yet he saw them everyday now. He supposed anything was possible, even an army of the undead.

Varys also told him Lord Baelish had an uneasy control over the Eryie and Lord Robin Arryn. He was met with opposition at every turn from Lord Royce and it was Lord Royce who truly commanded the Knights of the Vale. Tyrion was sure Littlefinger had another plan in the works already but Varys did not know what it might be as he had sworn loyalty to the North and to Jon.

Finally Varys informed Tyrion of his brother. Jamie had taken Riverrun and reclaimed it for the Freys. Although after his departure the Lord Frey and his eldest sons had been killed by an assassin. Varys thought this to be the work of Littlefinger in an attempt to gain control of as much as the Riverlands as he could while gaining favor with King Jon for the Frey's part in the Red Wedding. Little finger would be the type to send an assassin but Varys did not know who was truly responsible for the death of the Freys. Honestly the Freys were not worth the effort of thinking too hard on.

In regards to Jamie he was not present when Cersei had burned the Sept of Baelor killing the Tyrells and the Faith. Relief came over Tyrion to hear his brother had no part in this, he knew Cersei capable of this sort of madness but did not believe their brother could do such an act. Varys had found Jamie had returned to Kings Landing but it was unclear if he would aid Cersei at this time. 

Tyrion sat at his desk before him. Not knowing where to start but he needed to send ravens and he needed to be smart about his next move. His Queen depended on him to know how to play the game. He began to write … “Sweet Sister” …

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm noticing my computer changes some names like Varys to Varies so if you see that happen give me a quick note.
> 
> I like this Tyrion chapter but the next Chapter we will finally be back with Sansa ;)


	5. SANSA

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sansa grows close to Jon and worries about the Game.

SANSA

It was still dark out when Sansa rose. She crept from Jon’s chamber and returned to her own. Nothing had happened and she should have no reason to sneak around as she was but she knew it was not proper to sleep with any man even her brother at her age. Ghost was in the hallway between her chamber doors and Jon’s. That looked the same as always and had anyone walked the corridor last night nothing would have been amiss.

Sansa had fallen asleep in Jon’s chamber three times in the two weeks they had reclaimed Winterfell. The first night he moved her from the chair where she slept to his bed and covered her with furs so gently she never woke. He slept alongside her on the floor. He still had had much uneasiness around her as it was when her Lady Mother lived. Jon’s presence was a reminder of Her Lord Father’s dishonor during Robert’s Rebellion to Lady Catelyn. She never knew Lord Eddard to stray during his marriage and thought that whoever Jon’s mother was, she must have been a special woman to make her father forget his vows. Sansa could not blame Jon for his uneasiness around her. She had never treated him as badly as her mother had but she had never given him the time of day as children either. Now so much has changed it is hard to know how to behave she thought. But Sansa was glad to have Jon. She did not believe Bran and Arya dead but she hadn’t a clue as to how to find her brother and sister. Bran had last been seen heading North and she wondered if the news of Jon becoming King and reclaiming Winterfell for the Starks might make its way to Bran and Arya’s ears. Might they come knowing Jon and Sansa had made it safe for them now? Jon would be more easy with her if Bran or Arya were here. He would feel more like family. 

This first time Sansa woke with Jon on the floor she nudged him awake, still in the wee hours of the morn. She realized she had not slept so soundly in what may have been years. He turned to her as she pulled him into the bed with her. 

Half awake he had fumbled for words.

“I do not think it proper Sansa.”

“Don’t be silly Jon. Bran’s bed is huge. There is room for ten in this bed and Ghost can sleep between us if it bothers you so.”

The floor was cold she knew and he had not even taken any of the furs for himself.

“Aye, if it suits you.” 

Hours later, They woke just as they had been. Distanced with Ghost between them. She rose and Jon awoke as well…very uncomfortable at the sight of her in his bed. 

She searched for words to make him feel at ease.

“You know this is not the first time I have been in your bed Jon.” Sansa was trying to make him remember they were family. That they could be comfortable together even if Arya and Bran were not present.

“Do you remember when Arya born?” she asked hoping he would remember.

“Aye I do….”

She smiled. Glad he remembered.

“It was Robb’s bed though.” Sansa raised an eyebrow, surprised he had corrected her mismemory.

Jon continued, “You were just a babe of two. Robb was excited Arya might be a boy even though Maester Luwin had said your mother was carrying the way she had with you.” 

A smile broke across his face. Sansa enjoyed hearing of the happier times in Winterfell. She must remember those times if she ever wanted to think happy thoughts of her home. Too often she found herself remembering the memories she had as Sansa Bolton and it pained her to think of those things happening under the same roof.

Jon continued “Robb lifted you up into his bed and called for me to come too. To wait for his brother. Arya was to be named Brandon or Rickard were she a boy. I played with you and your dolls until you fell asleep between Robb and I…none of us could wait for the babe to be born but she did everything in her own time. She did not come until the next day. It was Old Nan had discovered us…saying it was not proper even then.”

He looked at Sansa as if to tell her this could not happen again. 

“But Nan did not tell Lady Catelyn on us and by the time Arya was born everyone was so happy to have her that it was forgotten…. Until now I s’pose.” 

Arya was Jon’s favorite sibling. It was easy to see. Where Robb and Sansa might have been twins with their Tully auburn hair and the features of their Lady Mother - Arya and Jon may have been mistaken for twins as well, albeit years apart. Their looks were completely Stark. It was said that Arya looked just like Lady Lyanna - their Lord Father’s sister. She was a great beauty with dark hair and gray eyes. She was a fierce she-wolf like Arya and loved to ride horses and play with the boys in the yard but, like Sansa, Lyanna loved the songs the singers sung of fair maidens and honorable knights. She was so beautiful that the Crown Prince Rhaegar Targaryan had stolen her away from Robert Baratheon and caused a Great War.

Sansa did not know who Jon’s mother was but it did not matter for Jon had all-Stark features just as Arya and the other Starks all possessed. 

When Arya was born Jon immediately loved having a sibling that so closely resembled him. It was as if he too finally had a sibling as Sansa and Robb had each other. Arya would ride and shoot arrows with the boys but Sansa had had none of that. She kept to her needlework and books and had the company of Jayne or her mother. She thought Arya wild and she regretted now that she did not try harder to spend time with her sisters and brothers.

Jon looked down after recalling the story of their childhood. Thinking of Robb and Arya she thought. Sansa took his hand.

“Yes - perhaps one day Arya and Bran can join us and the Starks can be unproper and sleep in a giant bed together again. I would sleep with them every night if I could, if they were back in Winterfell…safe…with you. And I would not care what Old Nan or any other that may think it unproper to want to be close again after what we had been through”

She wished she had never left Winterfell. Never went to Kings Landing but it did her no good to think of the past. She was back home again and now her thoughts were of their House and the North.

“I do not care what people might think. You are the only family I have now Jon. For so long I thought I might die and nobody would know. Nobody would remember… I thought the North had forgotten me. But they did not…They remembered. They remembered that Ned Stark’s blood lived in us and that we belonged here. When I found you I knew we could do this. We could be strong together and take back our home. The Lone Wolf dies but the pack survives. We are stronger together and knowing you are so near allows me to sleep easy brother.”

Jon must have accepted this because he did not protest the second time Sansa crawled into his bed. They had been working late on preparations for Karhold. With Harald Karhold dead in battle it should be easy enough for Davos to claim it as his seat. No Karstark could lay claim as they had all died as a result of Lord Karstrak’s betrayal against Robb. Sansa had other matters to discuss with Jon but the days had been long as they were trying to piece back their home and rule the North in a time of uncertainty. They had both fallen asleep at the table where they worked but Sansa awoke first, her hair askew on her papers. Jon was across from her asleep upright in his chair. Sansa did not know who had fallen asleep first. She woke Jon and he followed her to his bed. Too tired to protest perhaps or perhaps it was that he could not deny that he slept better with her near as well.

That morning she woke with his hand about her waist. She realized she did not mind his closeness. Any other man that came near her or made to touch her she became paralyzed with fear. The memories of Ramsay haunted her. She knew that in this lifetime she may not learn to trust another man. She did not care about never finding another husband and would be content to die a widow. The only thing that bothered her with that thought was that her family’s name may die out. All the work of recapturing Winterfell with no Stark heir.

Women North of Dorne usually took their husbands name but she would see her husband take the name Stark, should she marry again. She remembered her lessons and thought of how Ser Joffrey, a knight of House Lynden, was married to the only daughter of King Gerold III Lannister, who was of First Men ancestry. When the king died without male issue, Joffrey was crowned by a council and took the name of Lannister so his Lady Wife’s family name may continue. She supposed there was precedence but all this thinking would be for nothing if the only man she allowed to touch her was her half-brother.

The third night, last night, Jon had been the one asked her to stay. He could see she was upset. She had received a raven from her former husband Lord Tyrion. Jon had thought the tone of Tyrion’s raven was most peculiar but Sansa had told Jon that was his way. Even when situation demanded seriousness he found sarcasm his shield and his wit had often gotten him in trouble. 

“My Lady Wife, Sansa Stark,” the letter had begun. Jon had furrowed his brow in anger as Sansa read the words. 

She continued,

“We were never husband and wife truly were we? I was glad to hear upon my return that you had reclaimed Winterfell with your honorable Bastard Brother Lord Snow. I always had a spot for bastards and broken things, you know. If it pleases you I will arrive in a fortnight’s time. Know that I do not mean harm but I only wish to propose a plan that may be of mutual interest to the North and my Queen… Queen Daenarys Targaryen.

Your faithful husband, Tyrion.

The Raven came from Dorne. The seal was not of a Lannister Lion or Targaryen Dragon it was the sigil Oberyn had used on his shield and his ships. Tyrion made no mistake in using this emblem. He wished her to know he had allies beyond a disposed Targaryan Princess.

Sansa had to read between the lines for Jon. 

She did not know how Tyrion could arrive in two weeks time from Dorne but she thought the seal might be used anywhere…. they must be prepared for an army at the gates even if he had promised friendship. She wondered how the Dornish might fair in the harsh North. She hardly saw Oberyn or Ellaria wear much clothing. So little that when Sansa was in her small clothes she had more fabric over her skin than the outfits the Dornish marched about Court in whilst in Kings Landing.

She also knew he could not have said his true intent - whether it was friendship or a battle - in a raven. Ravens flying that distance could be shot down by any number of Houses trying to hear some whispers they might bring to their Liege Lords and gain favor.

Most could not read, true, but Tyrion would not take the chance of proposing marriage so bluntly. That was his intent she thought. She noticed he had used a different handwriting for the word propose. That was significant. His talks of their own marriage - even in jape - did not slip her mind either. 

She knew what this letter meant. 

“I can think of only two options.” Sansa finally told Jon, clearly shaken at the implications this letter provided. 

“Either Tyrion wishes to wed me once more as he knows you would not betray the Targaryans if I am among them… or …”

Sansa felt sick. She did not know which option had caused her to feel this way but she continued.

“Or Tyrion wishes to propose a marriage between you and Daenarys.”

Tears came to Sansa’s eyes.

Jon who had been staring at her as she sorted through the letter aloud for him, mouth agape shocked at how easy it was for her to decipher a letter such as this and its again shocked at its implications.

He rose when her first tear fell and he let her sob in his arms. She did not wish to cry like this in front of Jon. Finally she calmed herself.

“I do not wish our time together to end. I do not want to be with Tyrion in Kings Landing or Dorne or wherever the Dragon Queen may take him. 

Her tears slowed but she fumbled for words.

“And … and …would you have a Targaryen Princess Jon?”

She looked at him to gauge his reaction. He gave none. She pressed her concerns.

She did not want to think of that. A Targaryen. It was a Targaryen that stole Lyanna away. Sure Rhaegar was handsome as she was sure Daenarys would be beautiful. She would be a silver haired princess. But how could Jon marry the blood of the mad king and she hated to think of her brother in Kings Landing.

“Your interests do not lie in the Iron Throne why should the armies of the North fight a Southern battle. Kings Landing is no place for wolves…”

Jon shushed her gently as she was working up to cry again, she was thinking of all the wrongs that had befell to her during her time there.

 

He pulled her head into his shoulder... stopping Sansa from continuing that line of thought.  
He rocked her.

He smoothed her hair. Finally Sansa calmed once more. When she went to break their embrace she realized that it was he that did not let her go and instead Jon held her tighter to him, he needed her too she realized.

Sansa thought Jon was just as uncomfortable about the thought of being married as she was.

He only asked her to stay the night and they held each other silently until sleep finally came over them and eased their minds.

She petted Ghost as she walked into her chamber. She washed her face in her basin and changed her clothes to ready herself for her day. Trying not to think of Tyrion’s letter. No real course of action had been planned and Jon would need to consult with Davos and Tormund as to how receiving a Lannister may affect his plans to march on for the Wall with their new Army.

They had two weeks.

She did not need any surprises …. she needed to focus her efforts. She must be useful to him in this game. As she walked towards the hall she remembered the Lords of the North proclaiming Jon their King. She was happy in that moment for her brother and happy he sought her approval before standing to accept their cheers.

She gave him a smile. Enough for him to understand she wanted this for him. He rose to meet their cheers.

She looked around the room, the very room she was in now, and in the corner was Petyr. He was sullen and silent. He was not cheering for his new King. Sansa knew in that moment that she and Jon had made an enemy despite him pledging the Knights of the Vale to the North. 

It was with that exchange the pride she felt for her half brother left her. The implications of that look scared Sansa. Sansa knew that she had to step into the game, and she had to take the lessons she learned from Cersei, from Margery, and from Petyr himself and use them if she sought to keep Jon as King and her seat as Lady of Winterfell. That thought frightened her to have to play the likes of Petyr Baelish and Cersei Lannister in a game that had cost her so much.

The letter from Tyrion was a reminder that the realm would not let the North escape the game. How could she prevent Tyrion from taking the North and her brother from her she did not know yet, but she would find a way. A way to win the Game.

Sansa was so deep in her thoughts she did not notice Tormund passing her in the yards on her way to the coops. 

“Err Lady Sansa” he said with a gruff.

She looked up and was glad to have reprieve from her thoughts of the South.

“Yes Ser Tormund?” Sansa said as she was able to guess where this conversation was going.

“Yerr Lady Knight, Lady Brienne, is it true she returns today?”

Sansa did not smile and feigned ignorance as to his interests.

“I believe so yes, Ser Tormund do you and Ser Davos have need for her in the training yards?”

“Err no, um no Lady Sansa, No. Errr…Lord Davos was askin’ after her is all. He needs help with his soldiers perhaps. I’ll err, I’ll tell him she’ll be back today.”

Sansa did not smile to make him feel easy, she enjoyed seeing him being so awkward when it came to Brienne and truth be told Sansa, Davos, and Jon had all had a laugh on how uncomfortable Lady Brienne was in return. It was a small light in their days to see those two do whatever form of courtship they thought they were doing.

She returned from the coops with her aprons full of eggs. The space that had once been the kennels had proven to be a good place for the chickens. She found they laid twice many eggs in the warm space and Winterfell needed the extra eggs for the men who were training. Supplies were good but surely nobody minded having the eggs as supplement. Tormund and Jon had taken care of Ramsay’s hounds and Jon being very pragmatic brought purpose to the space Ramsay had wasted. Sansa was glad to see the dogs go. Only wolves will be in Winterfell from now on. 

She helped prepare breakfast in the kitchens. The men started to roll into the dining hall and she passed out breakfast porridge with the other kitchen girls. When Jon and Davos made their way into the room, she left her station. 

He looked uneasy at her not knowing what matter she wanted to speak on and a look of relief came upon his face when she spoke to Davos of Lady Brienne’s expected return.

“Might we give Lady Brienne the day to rest and meet on the morrow for a council meeting?” 

Jon nodded his head, understanding what he needed to address with Davos.

“Aye Davos tell Tormund we will meet on the morrow. I wish to discuss a raven that was dispatched from Lord Manderly and mayhaps Lady Brienne has news from the Riverlands.”

“Very well Your Grace.” Davos nodded and nodded again to Sansa as he made for the porridge.

Jon and Sansa discussed their daily schedule and sorted their day. They would lunch together likely in the yards and speak again of what needed to be seen to in Winterfell.

When she made to leave and resume her work int he kitchen Jon did not nod his head and give her leave. He had stepped towards her.

She raised an eyebrow as his lips came to her forehead.

He had kissed her again. In the middle of the hall. Jamie did not even kiss Cersei… in public…she thought. Why has Jon taken to this? She closed her eyes and let him though. If anyone thought it improper they did not let it on in that moment. Sansa decided almost instantly she did not care. She would enjoy her brother while they were still together in Winterfell.

Jon must have been thinking of the letter. What might be done? Sansa had two weeks to sort a plan. This Game. This Game of Thrones. She had no taste for it but she vowed to be good at it … both their sake.

After Sansa helped the other ladies clean up after everyone had their fill on eggs and porridge she went to the rookery to see if any more ravens had arrived. On her way she heard commotion and several men from the yard were opening the gate for two men in black pulling a small wagon cart.

They looked small for the Night’s Watch but Sansa had heard of the green boys that were on the Wall. Jon was a great fighter true, as was her Uncle Benjen, but the rest of the Seven Kingdoms no longer sent their bravest men. These two in the yard must be some of that lot. 

She decided to see what the news the men might bring from the Wall. She was sure they would be asking for either supplies or men and Jon would probably send them with both. It wasn’t until she was almost upon the wagon that she recognized the face before her sitting in the sorry excuse for a wagon. It was no soldier. It was Bran.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next chapter will be Euron. It will be less than PG-13 as Euron is not a PG-13 Character.


	6. EURON

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Enron plays the game of thrones.
> 
> also NSFW. I mean I hated writing this but whatever. I doubt its good but I'll get it up to par for my more favorite couplings.

Euron's ships were complete. His fleet more massive than any Ironborn fleet had ever been. He was ready but he dare not think he might do it alone..for now. 

As he made his way below deck his thoughts moved to the Lion Queen.

Cersei Lannister was in need of a fleet and Euron did not mind her tactics in destroying her enemies. She did not require his marriage but he would take it. They were to meet on the morrow. The Dragon Queen approached from Dorne and his niece and nephew among her army. The enemy of my enemy is my friend he had heard someone say. Cersei Lannister held what he needed, foot soldiers and a port that would serve as a stronghold. He would take care of her later after he won her battle.

Cersei the Cruel she was called among the small folk. It was almost enough to make Euron laugh. If they thought Cersei was cruel he laughed at what they might call him. They did not have words to describe his cruelty he thought. He retired to his chambers, to collect himself before meeting this "Cruel" Queen.

Failia Flowers laid across his bed. Pregnant. With his child....another bastard.

He knew she had been spinning tales that he loved her, that she was his salt wife. That their bastard would be his heir. Her mouth would get her into trouble. He had no need of a salt wife when a rock wife such as Cersei Lannister was proposing marriage.

"My King."

He stepped out of his tunic and leathers. His body was hard just like him. Scarred and beaten but chiseled and hard.

She was already naked, probably never had a stitch on all day. He had had her three times that morning and had taken her in ways he knew Cersei Lannister would not be accustomed to. He did as he pleased and he would continue to do such even with a highborn Queen.

Failia whispered in his ear. "My Kraken"

He liked the sound of it as he saw her lips move down him. Down to his cock.

He was close to full mast.

He began to ache for her.

She took him in her mouth. He growled with approval as she moved up and down. The ship helped her rhythm. Then he rose and worked against her himself. He held her hair in one hand and moved her where he wanted her. Taking his pleasure. 

He was so hard he did not wait and spilled into her throat. He held her neck, making her swallow his seed.

He withdrew.

She meant to lay in the bed next to him and rest no doubt perhaps wipe the tears from her eyes. He did not allow that. 

He began to work her large breasts over and over again pulling and biting them. She moaned. He did not care if it was for pleasure or pain. 

"Touch me"

"Yes there" she murmered as he slipped a finger up inside her.

Then two. Then three. Harder. Faster. Then slowly. Exciting her. Scaring her. He did not care.

His cock had grown to its length once more and he did not wait.

Failia was a bastard. Born from lust. She wanted this just as he did. Her hands guided him to her again and when she wrapped her legs around him, he drove into her, again and again until she screamed and arched her back beneath him. "Yes MY king!"

He spilled inside of her.

He touched her stomach and put his palm and extended his fingers onto the bump where his child was. She held his hand there and gave him a small smile. 

"Have I told you that this child might be my heir?"

"No, Your Grace." Failia's smile faded

He moved to his bedside table and withdrew a knife.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter will be Arya


	7. JON

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bran comes home. I'm going to add more to this chapter tomorrow.

"Davos!"

"Help Me get him to his bed"

The Onion Knight hurried alongside his King. Jon had thrown Bran over his shoulder and Davos threw open doors and cleared the halls ahead of him to make way for the King and his brother.

Bran's eyes were most strangely closed as if he were ill. Jon had not seen this before but thought that the journey to Winterfell was too much for his brother.

Jon placed Bran gently onto his bed.

"Get a Maester!" Jon barked to Davos.

"He doesn't need a Maester." 

Jon looked up. He finally surveyed the chamber to see who was amongst them. Davos stepped aside and girl dressed in the same Night's Watch garb was behind him and Ghost had made his way into the chamber as well.

"He's fine. He needs rest. He will wake soon." 

"My Lady" Jon began "I thank you for assisting my brother home, but his condition -"

"There is much you do not know Jon Snow." She cut him off, "Have a maester look him over but he will not have the answers you are searching for, only Bran can tell you what you wish to know."

Sansa came through the door, she sat beside Bran and smoothed the hair out of his face. She looked at Jon, wanting answers he thought.

"He ... he ... needs rest Sansa. His companion --"

"Meera Reed. Daughter of Howland Reed, Lord of Greywater Watch, I have been with your brother since he left Winterfell."

"Aye. We thank you for looking after our brother. I will make arrangements for you to be provided quarters so you might rest. Sansa and I will be most eager to speak with you and Bran when you have rested."

Meera nodded and Davos escorted her out of the room.

Jon moved to sit on the bed beside his brother and sister.

"His eyes, Jon."

Jon then realized he knew what was happening with Bran. He knew this must be how he appeared when he slipped into Ghost.

"The wildlings call it warging."

Sansa looked at Jon puzzled. 

"Skinchangers and wargs aren't just in Old Nan’s stories, they are real Sansa." 

Sansa looked at Jon and returned her gaze to Bran. "But - how do you kn--" She stopped and looked at Ghost and her eyes met Jon's again. "You can do it too."

"Aye, I imagine if you had had Lady longer you might have been able to as well."

Sansa looked down. Remembering Lady, Jon thought. 

Jon did not wish to upset her. He grabbed her hand and drew it to his lap and placed his other hand on top enclosing hers. 

"What do you know of the Reeds?" Jon asked.

Sansa looked up, "I do not know much about the Reeds, only that Howland Reed once saved Father's life when he went to rescue Aunt Lyanna, but she was already dead when father and Lord Reed reached her."

"Aye, that is all I know as well. S'pose we'll have to wait for Bran to wake to learn where he has been hiding all this time with his ... Lady."

Sansa turned to Jon recognizing his jape.

"Jon! If Bran has found love in the middle of Winter then praise the Gods because you nor I have done so well in securing a marriage."

Jon's smile faded he did not wish to speak of marriages, "Aye Sansa, you're right. Mayhaps one day you will meet a Knight you wish to marry - like in your tales...the Knight Jonquil or Prince Aemon."

Sansa's eyes cut to Jon. "Jonquil was the maiden, and Florian was her Knight --- and a fool. Just as I had been singing those songs wishing to wed a King."

"Aye, Sansa, but Prince Aemon the Dragonknight, he was a true Knight." Jon said, not wishing her to dwell on her betrothal to Joffery.

Sansa gave a small grin. "You and Robb used to play in the yards --- you pretending to be Prince Aemon the Dragonknight and Robb would play the part of Lord Cregan Stark, his only rival swordsmen." 

Jon could not help but to smile too as he remembered Robb, "Aye" Jon continued "Bran loved the tales of the Dragonknight too. He was a Knight of the Kingsguard, just as Bran wished to be before his fall."

Sansa looked at Bran and then looked down at their hands still wrapped around each other resting on Jon's thigh. "Prince Aemon loved his sister Queen Naerys Targaryen and she loved him. But Naerys had to marry their brother Aegon at their father's orders. At their wedding Aemon wept for his sister and then quarreled with his brother at the feast knowing he did not love their sister. Nearys wept at the bedding and had no love for Aegon during their marriage."

Sansa paused. Jon knew she was thinking of her own marriage. Jon moved closer and squeezed her hand in to his again and he continued Sansa's tale for her.

"Aemon took the vow of the Kingsguard after the wedding to protect his sister." Jon hoped that Sansa would remember that he would look after her and love her as nobody else had cared for his sister since their father was beheaded before her eyes. 

Jon locked his gaze to Sansa trying to offer her comfort from her own memories, of Kings Landing, of the Vale, and then here in the North as Ramsay Bolton's wife, she had endured too much and it only had made her stronger he thought. He took his free hand and held his open palm to her cheek and pushed a few wisps of her auburn hair gently away and tucked them behind her ears, so strong but so delicate, he thought. 

Sansa smiled. Jon knew he had spoken the correct words and his attempts at comforting her had worked. 

"It was said that only Aemon knew how to make Queen Nearys smile." Sansa said as she met Jon's hand upon her cheek with her own and clasped her hand into his.

Jon moved to embrace her. He pulled her into him at her waist and wrapped his arms around her tight.

"Thank you Jon." Sansa whispered to him, "You are my Dragonknight."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Adding more to this chapter and a new Arya chapter tonight


	8. Arya

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arya has a plan.

Her days were long and she needed the rest. She was glad to break for camp for the night as the days had grown shorter. Winter is here, Arya thought. She was traveling to Riverrun with a small party and their clothes were haggard enough where they would not rouse any suspicion of anyone they passed on the road. Another peasant family displaced by war perhaps. In four days time she would do as she had done at the Twins, kill the Freys but this was not just about checking names off of her list. This was a plan to regain a safe place for her family. 

With her on the trip was her Uncle Edmure and his wife - a Frey and their babe. After Arya had killed Lord Frey and his sons the castle was in such chaos it had been easy to rescue her Uncle and Roslin had organized their leave. Arya thought Roslin had no love for her family and as she had already bore Edmure a son Arya could start to trust she would sympathize with the Tullys. They also had two stable boys that had Roslin had trusted and they had provided horses at least for their party to make a hasty escape. They also brought with them a servant girl that Roslin dared not leave behind. It reminded Arya of Jayne Poole who Sansa had taken to Kings Landing and had not wanted to leave her friend in Winterfell. Uncle Edmure was no warrior and she did not trust the stable boys for protection either. The trip was dangerous and Arya wished she had more trustworthy companions during the journey. Edmure and Arya would fetch a pretty ransom and if anyone recognized them for who they were, surely they would sell them to Queen Cersei or the Boltons and although the prospect of crossing Roose or Cersei off her list was enticing it was not part of the plan for now. 

Arya thought of her previous two travel parties and the relative safety they provided. The first being her party that had been taking boys and men from Kings Landing to the Wall to serve in the Night's Watch. A bunch of misfits, thieves, and green boys. She was 'Arry' then, a boy, a ruse she needed for protection from all the dangers travel brought to her as both a girl and a Stark. Danger found her anyway and her party was taken to Tywin Lannister's very door while he was in Harrenhall. After she found her way from Harrenhall she and her companions, Gendry and Hot Pie, were captured by the Brotherhood Without Banners. Another sorry lot...she thought to herself. They took her escape from her and had planned to ransom her to her mother at least, but had sold Gendry to the Red Woman for his King's Blood.

Arya's thoughts moved to Gendry. She thought of him often and wondered why after everything a bullish smithy lingered in her mind. She remembered how he smelled, how he looked at her, how she trusted him. It was different with him, perhaps it was because he was the only person she had ever truly trusted after her Lord Father was beheaded.

Arya let her memories of Gendry come over her as she settled into her camp for the night. She often thought of the time that they had wrestled. After he had learned she was Arya Stark of Winterfell and he wrestled her anyway. She had pulled him to the floor more than once and pinned him underneath her although he doubled her in weight. He was gobsmacked each time she made her way onto him legs across him at his hip - pinning him down. She had reminded him that she was stronger than she looked with a grin and as he had maneuvered out of her grasp she gave him little punches that he only had laughed at. Eventually his strength overpowered her that day and she had to succumb to his tickling. Something Arya did not tolerate and rather annoyed her if truth be told. Her memories ended as regret consumed her thoughts then anger came over her. She had let him down, he was long dead now, she thought and everynight she recited the names of those who had killed her only friend. In time, she thought, in time I'll cross those names off my list as well.

Her other travel party had not been much of a party at all, for it was just her and one other. They were a fearsome duo though and Arya did not worry often about anyone they might encounter on the roads. The Hound was a brute but had looked after her better than most would have. He had wanted to ransom her to her mother, then her Aunt Lysa, and then perhaps they would have made for Riverrun to her Uncle the Blackfish. He had always said that he was after the ransom but by the end when Arya had no family left the Hound still fought for her safety and lost his life for it. The Lady Brienne had killed the Hound. She had said she had sworn an oath to her Mother to rescue her and Sansa but the Hound knew she truly worked for the Lannisters. Since Arya could not trust either the Lady or the Hound so when the Lady Brienne killed the Hound, Arya knew she had to be on her own. She could not be safe in Westeros for a time and made for Braavos. The Hound had died just has Gendry had died and Arya did nothing. He was no noble knight but Arya supposed that the Hound might have been had he served a good Lord, like her Lord Father. Instead he was Prince Joffery's dog and did his evil bidding.

Arya was glad to have learned that Joffery had died at his Wedding and Sansa had escaped. Her Uncle Edmure did not know the whereabouts of any of his family as he had been locked away at the Twins since his own wedding but he had elaborated on some of what Arya knew when she left the Hound, he told her of Robb being betrayed and how the Freys and Lannisters had forced him to turnover Riverrun. Arya could help right those wrongs. When they arrived at Riverrun they would steal it back from the Freys they would have a stronghold and a position to rebuild in the Riverlands. Arya would have a home and a family again and she could look for Sansa and send Ravens to Jon at the Wall might they try to recapture Winterfell. Edmure had t suspected that their Uncle Brynden the Blackfish would help as well. He had swam under the gate before the Lannisters and Freys could get to him and Edmure knew of a hideaway that Brynden might be at Stone Hedge. Uncle Brynden would know more about the political maneuverings of Westeros. The Blackfish, she knew, was also regarded as a formidable battle commander. He had distinguished himself in the War of the Ninepenny Kings and Arya would need the Blackfish and his knowledge of Riverlands if they were to regain the Tully's seat and perhaps hers at Winterfell.

Stone Hedge was another day's ride at their pace and they made camp for the night. Arya slept uneasily and when sleep came to her she dreamt. Every night she dreamt the same dream. She dreamt she was a She-Wolf with a pack of dozens of Grey Wolves. Her dreams came to her more often and she sometimes would see the landscapes of her dreams the next days on their ride as if the wolf was ahead of her in her travels. Close to her. Looking after her. As she closed her eyes tonight she heard a howl and knew that even though Gendry and the Hound were not looking after their party that they would be safe.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Will add more to this chapter.


	9. Sansa

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chapter set at Winterfell.

Jon had met with Tormund and Davos that afternoon and left Sansa to care for Bran, to wait rather.

Lady Brienne had also arrived and despite her own difficult journey came straight to Sansa who was at the desk in Jon - or Bran's chamber.

"My Lady." Brienne started.

"I wish I could have secured the -"

That was too far in the past for Sansa to dwell on and she did not want her personal guard to think her mad at her, too much had happened since then and it would do no good to apologize for the past. Sansa needed to focus on the future.

"Brienne, I know you tried. I wish I had known the Blackfish better - known him as an Uncle - but truth be told I did not know my Lady Mother's family as well as I should. He did not come because he could not remember us. Mayhaps I should have gone myself and he might have seen my Mother in me but it is no matter now. Where my Uncle has forgotten us the North has remembered. Come sit and tell me of the Riverlands and I will tell you of the North."

Sansa had mint tea and oatcakes brought to the chamber for Lady Brienne and she began to recount what had transpired at the Riverlands.

The Blackfish surrendered the Castle to Edmure and he had been taken back to the Freys, that was known. What Sansa did not know was that Brienne had seen the Blackfish escape and gone to his aid. 

"I left with Pod on a small boat as Edmure surrendered the Castle. As Pod paddled the Freys took the castle with only a small conflict as the Frey banners were dropped rather quickly to mark their victory. When we pulled our boat to shore the Blackfish himself came from underneath it. He had swam to us and used our boat to take him away before he might get caught. He also had ten of his sworn brothers in arms pose as farmers in Stone Hedge where he will remain and be safe for a time."

Brienne stirred uncomfortably and continued.

"We stayed with him for a time and I believe him to be honorable. He asked me to give you this."

Brienne offered a scroll.

"Niece, 

It is my regret I did not come to your aid. Family. Honor. Duty. Those our the Tully words. Edmure and his new family came before honor and duty. I should have thought of my own family - of you - and come to your aid when I had the opportunity and it will forever weigh on my mind.

Should this letter reach you I hope you have escaped the Boltons. I can offer no Army or men now but I can offer safety among your last remaining family. I offer you a simple life in Stone Hedge for now with myself and Lady Brienne to look after you. Know it is a humble offer but you are my last remaining family. I will never refuse you again and you and your Lady Brienne can come to me whenever need be. 

-Your Uncle, Brynden"

Sansa rolled the scroll and looked at Brienne.

"It is he who needs us now." Sansa said as she looked down, searching for how she might help her Uncle when he was so far away.

"Yes Lady Sansa, but I have more news from the Kingsroad."

Brienne still looked most uncomfortable Sansa noticed.

"Pod and I met some men on the road. A group called the Brotherhood Without Banners. They mean to swear to Jon and fight in the War against the White Walkers."

Sansa let her continue, not understanding the significance of this group.

"They had a Knight among them and I have brought him here. I met him before, when Pod and I were still searching for you - when we thought you were at the Eyrie with your Aunt Lysa. He was protecting your sister, Arya, as I told you --

"The Hound." Sansa interrupted.

"Yes, my lady."

Sansa kept her composure. She had not thought of the Hound for quite some time but she did not remember him as an enemy. He had protected her more than once from Joffery. He saved her from the fate of Lollys when she was pulled from her horse by the mob. He had meant to save her again had Stannis won the Battle of the Blackwater and more than once he had shown Sansa kindness even if he was Joffery’s dog.

“There is more my lady.”

“The Brotherhood told us that Lord Walder Frey and his two sons had been killed. The work of an assassin..”

Sansa was surprised and her faced showed it. Sansa noticed Brienne looked surprised at this reaction she must have thought it her work.

Sansa gave pause and calculated her response. She did not want Brienne to think her a coward or to think that one day Sansa may ask her to carry out such a task. 

“It was not my work Brienne. There is no honor in killing a man by assisan. True enough I have my reasons to have hated Lord Frey but in the North the man who passes the sentence swings the sword. Jon and I surely want him dead but it was not on our order.

Sansa paused a moment more, thinking of who might have had the motivation for such an act. Not the Lannisters, they have their own wars and the Freys holding the Riverlands for a time would be easier on their resources.. not the Dragon Queen, her heart seemed set on the Iron Throne....not the Iron Born, their way was not by assassin...her mind reeled.

"Lady Brienne, I trust you, and I will speak freely."

Brienne looked up, almost happy, Sansa thought, at the prospect of being trusted surely.

Sansa continued. “Do you think this the work of Lord Baelish? Might he gain favor with Jon and put himself in postion to rule the Riverlands as well?

Sansa knew Brienne had no taste for politics. Being caught between the Baratheons, Starks and Lannisters had made her wary of entering the game. Sansa felt the same truth be told but she had been in the same position between the ruling families of Westeros and now she had to play to keep her family safe. Her pack needed her to think of these implications because Cersei in the South did not threaten her near as much as an assassin working closely in the Riverlands.

Brinenne's words broke Sansa's thoughts. “Mayhaps, Lady Sansa. But the Lannisters had just won Riverrun for the Freys, and I think the Lannisters may ride again should they hear the Riverlands have been lost once more, it will do Lord Baelish or the North no good to have Lannisters back in the Riverlands to contend with.”

Sansa nodded.

"I must entrust you once again. Sansa's gaze moved to Bran tucked away in the large bed. That is Brandon Stark. Our true born brother. He arrived today as well. He travels with a companion. Lady Meera Reed of Greywater Watch. She is in the chamber you and I will share but as Jon and I have not determined the nature of Bran's return I do not mean to have it known he has returned."

Brienne looked uneasy. Sansa's motives were again in question. She did not need to justify herself but she did anyway.

"For his safety. When he wakes we will hear from him what he should want and I will gladly give him his seat as Lord of Winterfell."

Brienne let a heavy breath out. This must have relieved her some. Sansa mistrusted everyone and the Game of Thrones had led her to hide her emotions and intentions, it was smart but Brienne did not like the Game and Sansa would need to let Brienne understand her motives.

"In the meantime Brienne, our guest Meera is under your protection."

"Very well, my Lady." Brienne nodded in understanding.

Brienne looked tired Sansa thought. Everything else could wait she supposed.

Sansa rose to dismiss her Knight.

“I know Jon would like to hear what you have to say tomorrow at the Small Council meeting. He will ask you about any news of the Iron Islands as well. I will send Ser Tormund to brief you on the rest that has happened in Winterfell."

Sansa did not miss the scowl that came across Brinenne's face with the mention of Tormund and with that a small grin came upon Sansa's own face.

"I will see you at the small council meeting tomorrow."

Brienne nodded in thanks as she moved towards the large oak doors at the chamber.

"It is good to have you back Lady Brienne."

Brienne nodded and bid her leave.

Sansa moved next to Bran, stroking his hair as her thoughts ran wild.

It was good to have her Knight back but Sansa was troubled over all the news she brought. What the implications of unrest in the Riverlands meant for the North. While Brienne thought Baelish would not want chaos to erupt in the Riverlands, Sansa thought that might have been his exact motive....her thoughts moved to how she might be of any aid to her Uncle the Blackfish and how she would need to meet with Ser Sandor Clegane as well but she did not know what she might say, what he might say, would he have news of Arya? 

A knock came at the door. Sansa rose to conceal Bran but it was Jon and Davos. 

"It is just me Sansa." Jon spoke, knowing she had feared for Bran.

"Davos will stay with Bran, we - we - might we still must go to the crypts today? I think Bran safe and it will be good for you to be seen about if only for a time."

Sansa hesitated. She looked down. She did not wish to leave her brother's side. She wished to be there when he woke. But Jon was right, they had another brother they needed to see to.

"Very well, Ser Davos, please send for us immediately should he wake."

"Aye. My Lady." The Onion Knight responded and she knew Bran could be safe with him.

 

xxxx

 

She and Jon met the stone mason in the crypts. Six men had carried two statues down to the crypts. One was in the likeness of Rickon. His hair was wild just like him and his eyes were so real to Sansa she began to feel tears build in her own eyes as she looked upon Rickon's.

Jon held her.

The second was a statue of Shaggydog that was placed at the foot of Rickon's statue. The Direwolf was made of dark stone and his eyes were just as piercing to Sansa as Rickon's were. The Wolf's head had been recovered and Jon had had him placed here as well.

Jon dismissed the stone mason and his men without leaving Sansa's side.

When they left Jon pulled the small sword from his belt and placed it upon the lap of Rickon's likeness, as was tradition. Jon placed the torch in a sconce amongst the wall to free his hands. 

They stood in silence for a moment. 

Sansa began to look around the room. The great vaulted ceilings and the other statues of the Kings of the North and the Lords of Winterfell. Next to Rickon there was a statue and crypt for her Lord Father although she knew his bones had never made it to Winterfell. Next to him was her Uncle Brandon and Aunt Lyanna. She looked down the length of the Crypt down the corridor that contains a long line of granite pillars, two by two, between which are entombed the dead of House Stark.

She looked at Jon. He was looking at their Lord Father's place. There was no statue yet. Just a plot where he might lay someday. Sansa and Jon would have a statue made for him and a new sword made in the likeness of Ice. Sansa had not seen it since it had been used to kill her father before her very eyes.

She should not think of Kings Landing here. She looked at Jon still looking upon their Father's space. Sansa thought he must be thinking that he had not been laid to rest just as she had thought, how he was not in his proper place and how Jon would want to set things right.

"After we find Arya we might try to find Father's bones, Jon. I know Tyrion had them sent to Riverrun where mother was... They might still be there, waiting for the Starks to recapture Winterfell."

"Aye Sansa. But it is not that, that I think of..."

Sansa moved toward him again, listening.

"When we were young we would come here and play. We would play amongst the Crypts Monsters and Maidens. The firelight came upon Jon's solemn eyes and Sansa moved to him closer. Sansa thought to continue his story "Arya and I had been the maidens and you and Robb had been the monsters. We played among the dead and Old Nan told us tales of how they would protect us, how they keep vengeful spirits in their place. She said that there were cold things, dead things, that hated iron and fire and the touch of the sun, and every creature with hot blood in its veins but that here in the crypts Iron in the Swords would keep those cold things away and protect Winterfell." "I had been happy to think of the Lords of the Past down here keeping guard when we were young but in my sleep I dream of the Crypts and it haunts me."

Jon moved towards the older section. Past their grandfather Rickard and her Uncle Brandon.

"Why is it that the Starks do not burn their dead. They know of what lay beyond the wall and how the dead can rise again. And why do they arm their dead with a sword. I hope Old Nan is right because I should not want to fight an army of Starks from within our own hold. If it is as Old Nan has said that I should not have to worry of these dead then why do my dreams bring me here?"

Sansa looked around at all the Lords with swords on their laps. An entire crypt filled past where Sansa could even see. She did not know. She did not know what Jon had seen past the wall. She could not begin to think of the terrors the Army of the Undead would bring and what Jon had fought against, how the dead within Winterfell's own walls might give Jon pause where he had not before.

She took Jon by his hand and grabbed for the torch he had placed upon the wall with the other.

"We will never know by looking where we have already been" and Sansa led Jon down the corridor. Down the cavernous vault that was larger than Winterfell itself, with older Starks buried in deeper and darker levels to find Jon's answers.


	10. Daenerys

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dany thinks about marriage.

Daenerys broke her fast with blood oranges and a honey cake. Dornish food suited her. Tyrion was due in her solar shortly and she was eager for what responses, if any, his ravens yielded.

The Army of the North everyone agreed would be her best and only ally. The Stormlands and the Riverlands were in shambles and with Euron and Cersei joining forces the Northern Army only rivaled her own. She was so close to the Iron Throne. Closer than she had ever been but now she relied on Tyrion to guide her in the political intricacies of Westeros.

She found herself wishing Jorah was here as well. She needed a trustworthy second opinion about the Westerosi. Dany stole private audiences with Varys, Olenna, Yara, and Ellaria to piece together what needed to be done. Peace for the realm with her as their Queen. They all had different ideas on how this would happen or what they wanted from her. The houses always wanted something, some favor, some action, somebody dead, somebody married. "The Great Game" Tyrion had called it. Trying to prepare her maybe for what she was about to be a part of... "“Are you afraid? You should be. You're in the great game now. And the great game is terrifying" 

She had remembered what she had said too, "Lannister, Baratheon, Stark, Tyrell, they’re all just spokes on a wheel. This one’s on top and that one’s on top and on and on it spins, crushing those on the ground. We’re not going to stop the wheel. I’m going to break the wheel." 

She never wanted the realm to be in such disarray as it was now or perhaps when her father the Mad King had ruled and terrorized small folks and great houses alike with his madness. She shuttered at the thought of him, her father she never knew. The longer she was in Westeros the more she learned of her family. It was with one of her walks with Olenna she learned the most. Olenna was not coy when she brought up the prospect of marriage with her grandson Willas. 

"I was meant to marry into House Targaryen you know" she had started.

"I was betrothed to your Uncle or Great Uncle rather... the Prince Daeron Targaryen." 

Dany had not known this but nodded silently as Olenna took her arm for a stroll through the gardens.

"The King Aegon V Targaryen was known as Aegon the Unlikely, for he was so far away from succession as a fifth son of a fifth son and had been raised amongst the common folk as a squire for a simple hedge knight...yes, yes I know you know the story of him dear."

Dany knew his name but did not really know the common folk bit, "You may tell me more if it pleases you Lady Olenna."

Olenna raised an eyebrow and continued her tale.

"Ahh yes, you see he was a King everyone loved because he knew the people and he was not like much of the other Targaryens you see. He did not play with fire or marry his sister or any of that so he did not do things most Targaryens had done, mayhaps because he was raised by the Hedge Knight on the road or maybe he was just a different sort, I can't say child.

But you know he married a girl from a much lesser house that he fell in love with and since he was so far removed from the crown at the time nobody really cared who he married."

Daenarys liked this story. It was nice to hear of a Targaryen being spoken fondly of for a change.

"Well his marriage to Bertha Blackwood produced five children and King Aegon and Bertha decided that the best way to secure the realm would be to marry their children off to the different high houses of the realm to build some good will you see. See - they knew marriage would win them favor which it did. So their oldest Prince Duncan was promised to a Baratheon, and their second son to a Tully, and then I was promised to the Prince Daeron."

Dany wondered if their was more to the story or was it just to bring up the marriage between Willas Tyrell and Dany once more.

"Why weren't you married to him then?" 

Olenna had long realized that Dany had not known this story and with that she spat a curt remark. "Oh you know how these things go child. The heart wants what the heart wants and Daeron's heart belonged to some Handsome Knight more beautiful than me I believe."

Daenarys gave a sly smile.

"I suppose so, Olenna."

Dany did not wish Olenna to once again mention her crippled but smart grandson as a marriage prospect so Dany quickly turned the conversation in a direction that she wished to learn more on anyway...

"Yes.... I do believe marriage serves a purpose just as my Great Great Grandfather Aegon believed so tell me Lady Olenna, what do you know of Jon Snow, our new King in the North?"

"Never met him." Olenna said without missing a beat. "I don't usually meet the bastards."

Dany was a little shocked but she knew she shouldn't have been with Olenna. 

"Ned Stark though, what honor, what duty...he had plenty of admirers and none came to save him when Joffery came for his head."

"Pity."

Olenna continued.

"But Ashara Dayne was a great beauty. Dornish you know, but she looked like you - Valyrian like the rest of the Daynes. Purple eyes and such. Many believe she was Jon Snow's mother and when Eddard Stark took the boy from her to raise in the North she threw herself from a tower."

Dany had not heard this story either. 

"So she was Jon Snow's mother?"

Olenna cut a sly look at her.

"That is the story many believe child, but Lord Stark took that secret to his grave I'm afraid."

Olenna had stopped to admire a flower, a yellow rose.

"Lord Stark's daughter ---- Lady Sansa though --- I did meet. She was as delicate as a flower but I imagine her time in Kings Landing might have brought out a thorn or two in her. She said as she moved her fingers down the vine.

"Varys and I meant to take her to Highgarden and marry her to my grandson Loras. He was known as The Knight of the Flowers. All the Ladies thought him so handsome you see, riding horses and jousting, things of that nature that these boys play at.... and Lady Sansa as well loved that sort of thing then. I believe between him as a husband and having her friend, my Margery as a sister, Sansa Stark could have been happy in Highgarden."

Dany looked at the flower and plucked it.

"Yet she was not. I am told. Someone else stole her from both you and Tyrion and sold her to another bastard, but not one who was as gentle as Loras might have been?"

"True, dear. The same person who stole her away and sold her was the very one who arranged the marriage between Joffery and Margery... and look where that got us all. Olenna looked down. Dany could tell that it was the death of Margery that haunted Olenna. She continued even though she was distraught at where this conversation had led. "When Cersei had Margery and Loras thrown in the dungeons I cannot say my focus was on Sansa Stark and her marriage prospects any longer. I understand Lord Tyrion is instructing you in the Game as he calls it... Well take this lesson from me dear, do not only be wary of the Lions and Krakens and Snakes but the Mockingbirds and spiders that play as well."

Dany handed her the rose.

"I am sorry Olenna. Maybe again you can find your house once again Growing Strong."

Dany was broken from her memory of her conversation with Glenna when Tyrion approached, holding a scroll.

He bowed to both Dany and Olenna.

"A raven came, my Queen."

Dany looked upon the scroll. A 2 Roses. A second son of House Tyrell, Dany thought.

Tyrion handed the letter to Olenna.

She slowly read the contents and then rolled her eyes.

"Add the Tarlys to your sister's banner men...The North Remembers but the Reach forgets." Olenna said as she handed the letter to Tyrion.

Olenna handed the rose back to Dany. "A rose can no longer grow strong when it is plucked from its vine." she said as she looked around the Dornish Garden.

"Have your ravens worked yet Lord Tyrion? Or do we have to wait for the Lions and Krakens to come to Dorne to finish us off."

Olenna walked away.

Dany set her gaze upon Tyrion now.

"One more week" he said.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm going to throw out about 4-7 small chapters - world building chapters - today since I'm not too busy due to the Hurricane. Think nice thoughts for us Floridians guys.
> 
> I'll finish today with another Winterfell chapter since that is really what everyone wants.


	11. Arya

Arya liked the Blackfish almost immediately.

He had smacked her Uncle Edmure on the head and then given him a hug.

"Been through enough yet nephew?" he had asked as he could see Edmure was clearly not the man he was when the Blackfish knew him at Riverrun. Before the War of the Five Kings and before the Siege of Riverrun.

"Uncle. This is Arya. Our neice, Catelyn's youngest daughter."

The Blackfish took pause.

"Don't look much like your mother do you?"

Arya bit back quickly. "I favor my father. I look like a true daughter of the North. It is my sister Sansa who favored our mother."

"You do look like Ned, I'll give you that, even more like Lyara."

"Lyanna." 

Arya had heard that before. Supposedly her Aunt was some great beauty but Arya had been called horse-face and masqueraded as a boy for over a year so she didn't quite understand the comparison.

Arya could tell the Blackfish was testing her with that slip. Smart. She was smarter.

"Aunt Lyanna. Though I never knew her. She is buried in the crypts of Winterfell along with my Uncle Brandon and Grandfather Rickard. The crypts are sealed by an Iron Wood door in the Oldest Part of Winterfell. They say Bran the Builder built them himself when he raised Winterfell. Do you have other questions Uncle or do you have many other girls knocking on your farm door posing as family, who want to help you recapture what you lost?"

The Blackfish gave a nod.

"Fierce like Lyanna too."

Edmure and Roslin looked very uncomfortable at this exchange.

"Tell me niece, how have you managed all this?"

They sat at the farm table. Edmure was curious as well but Arya did not wish to divulge her secret to someone who could be so easily swayed by torture. She cut her eyes at Edmure and back at the Blackfish. He understood.

"Edmure go make yourself and your family comfortable in the stables. There is some hay mattresses there you might find comfortable for tonight. My squire Darren will also find a sword for you - I know you are eager to practice."

Arya could tell what the Blackfish said was tongue in cheek. She herself wished to tell him he was worthless for giving up her mother's home for a Frey.

After Edmure left the Blackfish poured himself a mug of ale.

"Family, Honor, Duty."

Arya looked at him. "I know the Tully House words."

"So does Edmure. His family was the one he is with now. Do not hold it against him."

Arya looked down as Brynden placed a mug of ale before her.

"I would not have surrendered Winterfell."

Brynden sighed and looked at her with a knowing look.

"We cannot say what we would do when the time comes. You and I are fighters. We wish to stay and fight for what is ours. Your brothers Rickon and Bran fled Winterfell when Theon the Turncloak captured it. It was the right choice for them."

"They were boys, Arya cut back. And Bran - he - he -" she couldn't bring herself to call him a cripple.

"He cannot fight properly."

Brendan just looked at his mug.

"Yes. Your sister Sansa though is a fighter like you."

This statement puzzled Arya. Sansa was in her stitch work and her songs. She never fought for anything except the affections of the boys in the yards perhaps Arya thought. She remained quiet - there was something she did not know.

"Have you heard from Sansa in Kings Landing then?"

The Blackfish looked at her. "You have been gone from Westeros then or hiding in a cave?"

"It was not safe for me here."

Arya told him her story. She did not leave anything out. She told him of the Kingsroad, of Tywin Lannister, of the Hound, of how he tried to sell her to Robb, then to Aunt Lysa, and then he would have tried to sell him to the Blackfish if he thought he would pay, then she told him of Braavos. When she told him of the House of White and Black the Blackfish stopped her.

"I know the training they do there. Surprised you were able to leave. When I was younger I travelled and fought too and there were always stories of that sort of training."

The Blackfish looked noticeably guarded but also intrigued.

"Very well Arya. I will tell you what you do not know."

"You were wrong not to trust the Lady Brienne. She was sent by Jamie Lannister but she was also in the service of Catelyn. She swore to find and protect both you and Sansa and she did that for Sansa. Sansa is in the North now with Jon and they are to fight for Winterfell from the Boltons who were named Wardens of the North by King Tommen Baratheon."

Arya was surprised Sansa had made it from Kings Landing but she knew Joffery had died from a troupe of actors she had seen while serving the Many Faced Gods. They had blamed Sansa and Tyrion for his death and Arya rather liked thinking of Sansa learning poisons as her weapon. And Jon, she did not think Jon would have left the wall but perhaps Sansa could have persuaded him.

"Sansa had been married to Ramsay Bolton. Roose Bolton's bastard that had been legitimized. He mistreated her and Sansa fled and Brienne found her and saved her from Ramsay. They went to the Wall where your bastard brother was - Jon."

Arya did not like to hear Jon called a bastard.

"Half Brother." Arya cut in.

"Yes, yes. Jon Snow. He left Castle Black and he and Sansa tried to rally the Stark bannermen to their cause. They sent Brienne to me while I still held Riverrun and like a fool I turned them down."

Arya's brow furrowed.

"Did they recapture Winterfell then?" She asked

"That I do not know niece. I entrusted Brienne with a letter that told Sansa she would have a place here with me if the battle was lost. I have not heard any other news. The Riverlands are in unrest with the Twins and Riverrun both without steady rule. We do not get ravens as we would if we were in a castle you see."

Arya nodded. This news only added to her sense of urgency to recapture Riverrun and to have a stronghold for her family.

"Very well Uncle. Let me tell you my plan."


	12. Jamie

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Poor Jaime.

Cersei commanded 2,000 Goldcloaks. The Lannister Army totaled 8,000 last he was told from his Uncle Kevan. The Tarlys were still loyal banner men and they commanded 8,000 men. Jamie would need to send a raven to Lord Randyll Tarly and offer him something for his service, for forgetting he was a sworn to House Tyrell. He was a tested battle commander as well and would be useful and Jamie thought between Olenna and Cersei and every other King that had sprouted up since Robert died most of the realm just wanted to pledge to who sat the throne and this point. Randyll Tarly could be Lord Paramount of the Reach easy enough, besides Olenna's resources were currently in Dorne and with the Dragon Queen. Jamie would need to sort out the South and the Reach sooner rather than later he thought. The Knights of the Vale had some 8,000 men and they had largely remained out of the fold. Young Robin Arryn was best kept out of politics. Jamie remembered the boy from when he was in Kings Landing with his mother, Lysa Tully and knew her even before the days she was married to Jon Arryn when Lysa was just a maid. The boy was sickly true, but Jamie thought it was his mother was to blame. She was pretty enough in her youth - The Tully hair that Catelyn Tully and Sansa Stark both had, fair and delicate. Time had not been a friend to Lysa Tully though, years of miscarriages had made her fat and a bit mad as well. Jamie thought of Lysa who he was nearly betrothed to at one point. Lord Hoster Tully and his Lord Father had been discussing a betrothal between Lysa and himself, as the heir to Casterly Rock Hoster Tully could not dare to make a better match having already betrothed Catelyn off to the North. This potential betrothal was off the table when the Mad King took Jaime into his Kingsguard. So his Lord Father had offered Tyrion in Jamie's place but was rebuffed by Lord Hoster, who stated that he wanted "a whole man" for Lysa. Much good Jon Arryn did for Lysa, Jamie thought. A whole man gave her only one sickly babe and an uneasy rule of the Eryie upon the Old Man's death. If Tyrion had been married to Lysa instead Jamie might have an easier time figuring out the allegiance of the Vale. With Robin Arryn out of the picture some Royce or Hardyng would have claimed the Vale by now but as it was presently Lord Baelish had worked his way into that seat, as Lord Protector. The Lannisters have always rewarded Littlefinger for his - - usefulness. Maybe there was another opportunity here, presently Jamie would be content to see the Knights of the Vale stay in the Eryie and have one less house sworn to the Dragon Queen. For whatever reason the Iron Born had come to Cersei and sworn a thousand ships. Cersei had entertained the idea of marriage to Euron Greyjoy but Jamie knew nothing would come of it. She would never marry again. Not even for a thousand ships. Jamie knew Euron couldn't be trusted but for now the ships were in their harbor and Euron's desire for the blood of his niece and nephew was enough for Jamie to believe he would indeed fight against Daenearys and her fleet when they came to Kings Landing. 

Dorne and the Tyrells were lost to the crown. Cersei made sure of that. Jamie would not have allowed that to happen had he been in Kings Landing. Anything would have been better than what Cersei had done. Jamie knew any Dornish alliance died with Doran Martell but Mace Tyrell was easy enough to control. He was a fool to leave Cersei, he knew when he left for the Riverlands it was the wrong course of action. Too much has changed now and it was up to Jamie to find a way out of Cersei's mess. Jamie looked at his papers and maps again. The North was much like the Riverlands - it was in disarray. Which for Jamie meant there was no threat there, for now at least. Jamie almost wished he could return to try to sort that mess again. Apparently one of Walder Frey's sons had killed their father and older brothers and during the chaos Roslin Frey freed her husband and fled the Twins. Now there was some great unrest as to the matter of succession since Walder had left too many heirs. 

Jaime was glad his Aunt Gemma and her Frey Lord Husband held Riverrun but that was an uneasy rule. If Edmure should return surely those loyal to House Tully would happily welcome their Young Lord back.

Likewise the Cersei had received word from the North that Roose Bolton had been poisoned by his enemies and his Bastard Son Ramsay now held Winterfell. The Boltons were allies enough. They had done Tywin's bidding turning their backs on the Young Wolf Robb Stark in their lust of power. Word had come to Cersei that the Bolton's had defeated Stannis once and for all when he made to take Winterfell himself coming from the Wall. That was reason enough to support the Boltons but presently he could not spare any troops should Bolton's bastard hold an uneasy rule on the North, which he imagined he would. Brienne had told him as much. Jamie doubted based on Sansa's desperation that the Starks could manage to overcome such odds and defeat Ramsay. The Blackfish's refusal certainly did not help her cause.

But the North Remembers Jamie thought. He had heard them say some sort of nonsense of the sort on his last visit to the North. Northerners were always spinning words like that. Maybe Winter will finally come as well he thought and Sansa Stark is holding Winterfell at this very moment. Perhaps she is back in the bastard's bed. Jamie did not know and he did not care so long as they were not threatening Cersei's crown. 

He looked down at his scrolls and brought his focus back to Kings Landing.

Cersei was worthless most days. She didn't wish to speak of tactics or details Jamie brought to her she only wished to have Jamie kill Daenarys Targaryen and Tyrion who were in Dorne with a massive army. "Easier said than done, Sweet Sister."

The other part that Jaime had grown to hate upon his return was Qyburn. Cersei had given him leave to do whatever experiments he wished. He wondered what sort of experiment had gotten him banned from the Citadel. And why Cersei allowed this man to be the voice in her ear, leading her in any direction he liked. Cersei did not need any foolish ideas he thought, she had enough of her own. 

Jaime looked upon several scrolls that were laid upon his desk. He was not a fast reader. When he and Cersei got their lessons the Maesters had told their Lord Father that Jaime would never read. That he reversed his letters in his head and could not put pen to paper in the ways Cersei could. Now Jaime supposed that Cersei could not write a sentence after she was in her cups all day and night. Nonetheless Lord Tywin would not have a son that could not read. He made him write the same sentences over and over and then he had to write the histories over and over until he could not forget how to write.

It was Tyrion though that made him understand. He was younger than Jaime but could read much better than him. When Jaime was practicing Tyrion was reading the stories to him. The tales of the Knights and legends of the Valyrians, Aegon's Conquest, all the words came to life for Jaime. Words he did not know Tyrion would draw pictures for him to make him remember what they looked like on sight. Between the pictures and the stories and Tywin making him write and rewrite the histories of Westeros Jaime learned to read and write and Tywin could be proud of his son and call him an heir even though it was Tyrion that had their father's wits.

Jaime thought of Tyrion. Yes it must have been hard facing the prospect of death but he had helped him escape. He had no need to kill their Lord father on the way out. Tywin was never good to Tyrion but Jaime could not believe Tywin would let him die. Take the Black maybe but not die as Cersei had wanted. The Black would have suited Tyrion Jaime thought. He always wanted an adventure and from what he heard the Wall had done plenty of fighting and ranging lately with the Wildlings. He had even heard rumors of the dead walking again. That Jaime would have thought was Northern nonsense but after the birth of three dragons in this world and the rather dead Mountain following Cersei everywhere she went Jaime supposed many things were not impossible.

The books and scrolls he had called for tonight retold the tale of the failed Dornish conquest by Rhaenys Targaryen. When Aegon the Conqueror came to Westeros he had little resistance as he had three dragons. Westerosi did not know how to defend this and nearly everyone bent the knee and swore fealty to the Targaryens....Save for Dorne.

Aegon had sent his sister wife Rhaenys to take Dorne. Queen Rhaenys Targaryen was the younger of the two sister queens of King Aegon I Targaryen. Rhaenys was Aegon's favorite sister-wife, though it was whispered she may have had others to warm her bed when Aegon spent his nights with their sister Queen Visenya. Rhaenys was a dragonrider who rode the dragon Meraxes. The Hill of Rhaenys in King's Landing is named after her. 

Jaime knew this of course from his recounting of the histories with Tyrion all those years ago.

What he failed to remember was how the Dornish brought Rhaenys and Meraxes down and how the Dornish were able to secure the peace with Aegon. Something about avoiding wars by having their Lords hide when the Targaryens came for them or some sort of cowardly act Jamie thought trying to remember.

Reluctantly he began to read, the scroll contained the answers. 

The Dornish he remembered correctly had fought like cowards. Hiding their men away from fighting and sneaking shots from sand huts at the Dragons when their riders did not see. Leaving only old women and children in the castles making the Targaryens work for their conquest. 

It was at Hellholt in 10 AC where the Dornishmen won their greatest victory, as a bolt from a scorpion pierced Meraxes through the eye. The dragon fell from the sky, with Rhaenys on its back, destroying half the castle. It is not certain, whether Rhaenys outlived Meraxes or not. There are those who say that Rhaenys lost her seat, and fell to her death, while there are others who claim that Rhaenys was crushed to death beneath Meraxes in the castle yard. A third option, claimed by a few accounts, state that Rhaenys survived the fall, and that she died a slow death, being tortured by the Ullers. Much uncertainty surrounded her death. Aegon's grief at the passing of Rhaenys was great; the following two years were known as the Dragon's Wroth. The Dornish and the Targaryens had bounties placed on each others head and attacks were carried out both in Dorne and in Kings Landing. If not for Visenya Targaryen Aegon would have been slayed in the streets. Peace did not come until years later. When Princess Meria Martell passed away in 13 AC, her elderly son, Nymor, became ruling Prince of Sunspear. Having enough of war he sent his daughter, Princess Deria Martell, to King's Landing with an escort as an peace envoy. She carried the skull of Rhaenys's dragon Meraxes as well as a letter. The delegation's arrival with the sight of the skull angered several in the court, such as Orys and Visenya. Deria delivered her father's terms, stating Dorne wanted peace, but the peace of two sovereign kingdoms. Aegon was about to refuse this offer until Deria placed her father's letter in the Conqueror's hand. Atop the Iron Throne, Aegon read a message delivered from a Prince of Dorne. No one knows what was in that letter, as Aegon never spoke of it thereafter. Some say he rose from the throne clutching the letter, blood trickling from his hand. Some maesters and historians speculated that the Dornish held Rhaeneys as an injured hostage and the Dornish would agree to end her suffering if Aegon ended the war. Whatever was in that letter moved the Conqueror to agree to peace terms and withdraw his forces from Dorne. 

That pain Aegon I felt at the death and uncertain fate of Rhaenys Jamie knew. He knew it too troubled Cersei to see Jaime without his hand for the first time after he had been captured by Lady Stark and then faced Vargo Hoat on the road to Kings Landing. Cersei had told him of how wrought with fear she had been at the thought of never seeing her twin and her lover again. How she thought she could not live without him and that only her children had kept her alive when she thought Jamie gone.

His thoughts left Cersei. That was not the Cersei he knew any longer.

He focused again.

It was a scorpion bolt shot from a crossbow. That was useful information.

He also thought of the uneasy peace Aegon had accepted with Dorne... And how if at all, could it be possible again?

War tactics and battle commands was what Jamie knew best. The politics and schemes he had left to Cersei and his Lord Father for too long. It was his turn to play the game he thought.

Jamie shuffled his papers to a blank scroll and began to write. He dared not call for someone to write this letter for him.

He held the scroll in place with his golden hand and slowly began to write with his left hand, his only hand. Jamie thought even sickly Robin Arryn's script with all his fits might be more legible than what he produced on this night.

He sealed it with his personal seal. A Male Lion, of course, representing House Lannister but dipped in white marking Jamie as a Knight of the Kingsguard. He continued using it now even though Tommen had stripped of his post at the High Sparrow's request. Jamie did not know what title he now held but that did not matter. Dragons and Krakens and Snakes all made their way for Kings Landing and it made little matter if Jamie was in a white Kingsguard Cloak, a Gold Cloak of the City Watch or one of Lannister red now.

Jamie made his way to Bronn's chambers.

His golden hand knocked on the door. 

Before Bronn had a chance to make some quip about Jamie coming to his quarters late at night Jamie spoke.

"Can you be ready to ride before the sun is upon Kings Landing again?"

Bronn looked at the scroll and brought his eyes back to Jamie.

"Best have a sack of coin to accompany that love note."

Jamie smiled.

"A Lannister always pays his debts."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Probably will add a little more to this chapter but I'll post an update when I do.


	13. SANSA

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Back to Winterfell.

She did not know where she found the courage to walk down the crypts towards the sections she had never been. Old Nan had said their were rats bigger than dogs but Sansa knew Jon could take care of them and that Old Nan stretched the truth. Perhaps it was the safety of her half brother that gave her this new courage.

They walked slowly though, however courageous they were. Sansa made as though she was looking around. Taking inventory. Looking for something that might help Jon reason out his dreams.

"Do you know the story of Bael the Bard, Jon."

Sansa shook his hand as if to jog his memory.

"No Sansa tell it to me." Jon said. He must be thankful for the distraction she thought as the moved with uneasiness down the corridor.

"Bael the Bard was a King-Beyond-the-Wall just like you had in your Mance Rayder not so long ago. 

She could feel Jon's gaze now, the story must have caught his interest. 

"According to legend, he was one of the greatest free folk raiders of his time, a man who outwitted the northmen and managed to impregnate Lord Brandon Stark's daughter. He was also a bard who wrote songs about his own life, which are still used to this day."

Sansa could feel Jon look at her again and as she turned to him she saw a bit of a sly smile.

"I don't just know him from the songs Jon." Sansa rolled her eyes a bit she realized.

"Lord Brandon Stark, once called Bael a coward. To take revenge of this affront and prove his courage, Bael climbed the Wall, took the kingsroad and entered Winterfell under the guise of a singer named Sygerrik of Skagos, which means "deceiver" in the old language of Skagos. There, he sang until midnight for the lord.

Impressed by his skills as a singer, Lord Stark asked him what he wanted as a reward, and Bael only asked for the most beautiful flower blooming in Winterfell's gardens. As the blue winter roses were just blooming, Brandon Stark accepted to offer him one. But the following morning, the single, virgin daughter of the lord had disappeared, and in her bed was the blue winter rose."

Jon must have thought this story a bit scandalous for Sansa to be retelling it because he did not glance her way any longer.

She was no maid and neither was Jon, from what she heard of Tormund teasing him.

"So Lord Brandon sent the members of the Night's Watch looking for them beyond the Wall. Sansa continued and blushed a bit she realized.

"But they never found neither Bael nor the girl. The Stark line was on the verge of extinction, as Lord Brandon fell sick with no sons or heirs."

That idea was to reminiscent of their current situation. Sansa was grateful to have Bran back but it would be nice to have more Starks about as it once was.

"Then one day the girl was back in her room, holding in her hand an infant: they had actually never left Winterfell, staying hidden down here in the crypts. Bael's bastard with the daughter of the Lord Stark became the new Lord Stark."

"Aye Sansa I believe I have heard this story before, but the Wildlings tell it a bit different. I found it hard to believe that wildlings and Starks share blood ties."

Sansa had not thought of that. 

"Well Jon, the Freefolk are here now and surely the North will share their beds soon enough."

Sansa thought to tease Jon in this moment.

"I have heard you yourself forgot your vows for a wildling?"

Jon froze. "Did Tormund tell you this?"

Sansa let out a giggle over how wrought it made him.

"I heard him in the yards teasing you, he said that he was worried because he was 'kissed by fire' too as they say. And that you would come for him next."

Jon looked dumbfounded but Sansa continued in jape.

"Maybe I should worry as well? My hair is lucky is it not? A wilding may steal me away for it."

Jon turned to her and put a wisp of hair that had fallen from her braid behind her ear with his free hand.

"Do not worry Sansa. I will not let anyone harm you or any of the fire kissed hairs on your head."

Sansa realized this conversation had turned from her careless japes to something more serious.

Jon looked down.

Sansa had not realized she must have upset him. She supposed Jon teasing her about Joffery might not have gone over well now that she thought a bit harder on it. Tormund got away with too much and she had only followed his lead on the matter.

"I - I am sorry Jon. What was her name?"

Jon turned from her and placed the torch against a statue. Another Lord Brandon. They had not even reached the Kings of the North yet Sansa had realized.

"Ygritte." Jon said solemnly but Sansa realized he was looking her in the eye.

"She was kissed by fire like you... you are right it is considered lucky by the free folk."

Jon stepped closer.

"Where your hair may have brought you luck Ygritte's ran out. She died when the Freefolk tried to take Castle Black. A brother killed her with an arrow and she died in my arms."

A tear came down Sansa's cheek now.

Jon brought his hand to her face and thumbed it away.

"It was not meant to be Sansa. Do not cry for me. Ygritte was not my destiny. There is something more for me to do, for us to do, in this life and it started by retaking Winterfell and the North. I know that now."

Sansa thought of how strong Jon was, she had not known he had been in love. 

Jon walked toward the Lord Brandon and picked up the torch once more. Signaling to Sansa he no longer wished to speak on the matter.

"Well Jon then tell me of your dreams to see if we are close."

"Do you truly wish to know" Jon said.

Sansa could tell this was another topic that made Jon wary.

"Yes, if you believe there is something to these dreams I must know how I can help you find your answers." She said calmly as to make Jon comfortable enough to retell whatever dream haunted him so.

"Very well then Sansa."

Jon took a breath as they continued towards the collapsed section.

"It's black inside, just as it would be without this torch. I can see the steps spiraling down. Somehow I know I have to go down there, but I don't want to. I'm afraid of what might be waiting for me. The old Kings of Winter are down there, sitting on their thrones with stone wolves at their feet and iron swords across their laps, but it's not them I'm afraid of. I scream that I'm not a Stark, that this isn't my place, but it's no good, I have to go anyway, so I start down, feeling the walls as I descend, with no torch to light the way. It gets darker and darker, until I want to scream." 

He stopped, frowning, embarrassed. 

"That's when I always wake."

Sansa looked at him with a raised eyebrow.

"You are a Stark, Jon. You always have been and you are now. At least sleep tonight knowing that."

Jon gave a bit of a smile and he took her hand again.

The spiral staircase lay ahead of them now. 

Just then Sansa felt a knock on her leg. She screamed and jumped towards Jon.

Jon dropped the torch to catch Sansa. Whatever hit her was large. As the torch hit the ground it revealed what was indeed a rat the size of a dog. He unsheathed Longclaw and with a careful but swift swing took its head."

Jon still held Sansa about the waist. She had thrown her hands around his neck as if to climb him to create distance between herself and the rodent. 

Jon laughed at her.

"Old nan was right I 'spose" he said with grin.

Sansa did not think it was funny. She released her hands from about his neck but did not back away from him.

"I really must get my own sword for occasions such as this."

With that they both smiled and gave another nervous laugh. Sansa realized Jon had not taken his hand from her waist. His strong arm wrapped around her thin waist easily. She was sure Jon could have lifted her up with just that arm had he needed to truly save her from something more menacing than an overgrown mouse. His thumb moved up and down against her dress to comfort her and she placed her hands down onto his broad chest.

Their giggling stopped now.

"Thank you Jon. You have saved me once again."

A strange feeling caught Sansa in the chest and stomach. She did not know if it was from the brief scare or something to do with Jon holding her in this way. 

"I will always protect you Sansa." 

She knew he would say something like that.

The torch was still on the ground and neither had made to retrieve it. The light danced on Jon's face. Jon had put Longclaw back in his belt and brought his hand to her hair again. He smoothed the strands along her brow and down behind her ear again.

"Thank you Jon." Sansa said as she reached for his hand and brought it into her own.

It was hard to tell as the fire danced about the dark room but Sansa felt as though Jon drew her closer almost as if to kiss her.

His lips moved towards her and she closed her eyes. Her heart beat loudly in her chest.

Just then they heard someone scream from the front of the hall.

Jon broke their embrace and gently moved Sansa behind him with his hand gently on her stomach.

"Lady Sansa!"

A shadow came down the corridor and Jon placed his hand on the hilt of his sword.

"Lady Sansa, King Jon."

"It is Pod. Sansa realized and Jon dropped his guard."

"I am sorry Your Graces."

Pod stammered as he looked around as if for the first time realizing he was among the dead.

"The Lady Brienne asked me to fetch you, I'm sorry to disrupt you but she said not to trust anyone else. She said you asked to be called straight away.

Sansa looked at Jon and gave him a brief to let him know it was indeed true. She realized that Jon looked a more than bothered with Pod.

Pod continued... "They are awake."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'll cycle every other chapter in Winterfell for the next 10 chapters to give everyone what they want. Jon/Sansa interactions.
> 
> The next Winterfell chapter (2 chapters from now) should be a really rewarding one.


	14. Theon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Theon in Dorne.

The crew had taken to him well enough. He knew it was Yara's doing. They respected her, she was Iron. She deserved the Salt Crown.

Theon was tending the sails when Tyrion came aboard. 

Theon rose.

His head was down as it always was.

"My-my Lord?"

Theon hated himself for trembling like he did. Iron. You are Iron. You are Theon. You are a Greyjoy.

He cleared his throat. He repeated himself.

"Yes Lord Tyrion?"

Tyrion walked onto the deck with ease. The travel to Dorne gave him his steadiness.

"Yes, Theon. Oh don't be such a mope. I have come on behalf of your Queen."

Theon steadied himself and cut his eyes to see if any of the crew had heard Tyrion call him a mope. They had not and for that he was thankful.

Yara had trusted Theon more and more to command. He did not wish for Lord Tyrion to undo any of the good faith the crew had placed in him even if it was in large only because his sister had asked them to. Theon did not mean for Yara to seem foolish for trusting him either. He was broken true but she had the strength he lacked and he meant to see her sit the Salt Throne.

Our Queen has requested your counsel today. Perhaps after you lunch you and Yara can meet Her Majesty in the Water Gardens?"

Yara strode from the bow. Theon was thankful for her presence it steadied him. Calmed him.

"We'd love to Tyrion." Yara said cooly as she circled around Tyrion and then stood next to Theon.

Theon gave her a glance now head still down.

"Tell me Lord Tyrion" Yara continued with a sly smile. "Is it top secret or will you invite every one of Oberyn's bastards once more?"

Tyrion rolled his eyes and before he could speak she cut him off.

"Ellaria fine but the rest could slither away! If the rest of Westeros treated bastards the way the Dornish do I'm sure we'd have more Baratheons than your sister cares to admit --- but I don't think any Baratheons sat the throne after Robert - not truly, is that right Lord Tyrion?"

Tyrion rolled his eyes.

"Tell me were you close to your sister? Or did she only have brotherly love for her twin?"

Theon brought her back to her original question and ignored the bit about Cersei all together.

"If it pleases you Lady Yara, only you and Theon are to meet with the Queen. She really only needs to speak with Theon but invited you as to make Theon more comfortable."

Theon looked up at Yara again and saw it was her that was looking to the crew to see if any heard that, again they had not or did not dare to pretend to in front of Yara.

"Very well Lord Tyrion, I surely will miss having you there." 

Yara laughed as she walked away.

 

xxxx

 

They walked to the Queen's wing of the Water Gardens. Yara stood so tall. So strong. Theon tried to mimic her but he could not come close to looking as formidable as his sister.

"Do not worry brother. I am sure she wishes to speak to us about the fleet. I will be here with you."

Yara was good at reassuring her brother. She had been doing it since before they met the Dragon Queen. At first he had thought she did it out of pity or in an effort to pay him back for backing her claim to the throne. 

Theon had never truly known what it was to have a family. Had he not turned on the Starks he might have realized that Robb was his brother. It had been too late when he finally realized that he may have been born Theon Greyjoy but Lord Eddard had been more of a father than Balon had ever been.

My real father lost his head at King's Landing. I made a choice... and I chose wrong.

He was haunted by that. The things he had done. The path he had chose trying to be a Greyjoy.

But now Yara was his family. She cared for him.

She had tried to save him once. When he was Reek. He remembered that now. That it wasn't a trick. Now she was helping him. Be a man. Be a sailor. A Greyjoy. Family. This was family.

Theon stood taller as the strode out into the gardens.

Missendi took leave when Yara came forward. Walking in front of Theon.

Theon bowed his head at her as she left.

"My Queen" Yara gave an exaggerated bow in jape.

Theon did not quite understand the relationship between his sister and Daenearys but he supposed since Daenearys never protested any of Yara's mocking that it must be fine with the Queen.

Daenearys raised an eyebrow and smiled as she walked towards a small table in the gardens.

"You could not have chosen a hotter day my Queen?" Yara grinned as she sat.

"I am sorry the Dornish heat does not suit you Yara so as much as it pains me I will keep this meeting brief." Dany turned from her and the smile left her face. Theon realized she was looking at him now and despite his best effort to be as strong as his sister he looked down when her gaze fell upon him. He realized she was not Yara's friend now. She was his Queen. 

"Theon -" Daenearys lowered her voice as if to coax him into talking with him. She had learned that from Yara he thought.

"Lord Tyrion tells me you were the ward of Lord Stark at Winterfell. Living amongst the Starks longer than at Pyke."

Theon heard Yara let out a heavy breath.

"...And that you lived with the Boltons who Tywin Lannister put into power after the Freys killed Robb."

Theon meant not to move but he shuttered.

Strong like Yara. Strong like Yara. He repeated in his head as he thought of Robb and how he betrayed him.

Theon Turncloak they called him.

Dany continued.

"But you saved the Lady Sansa from Lord Bolton's bastard..."

Theon was breathing heavy. He looked at Yara. She she nodded her head at him.

Dany lowered her voice once more. "Please Theon. Tell me of the North and what they have been through. Tell me what I am walking into when I meet Jon Snow and Sansa Stark."

Theon took a breath. Looked at Yara and then looked Daenearys straight in the eye and told her what she wished to know.

He told her that the Starks were honorable. How he betrayed Robb. How he lost Winterfell to the Boltons. The things Ramsay had done to him. How he had been Reek. Yara must have told Daenearys this already because he saw them glance at each other when he told her of the Ramsay and how he had been tortured. The games he played. How he had forgotten who he was and who he had ever been. But then he told them of how Jon was just respectable and honorable as Lord Stark. How the North would remember the Starks. How Jon could lead them as Robb had meant to. How they are good people and would be good rulers.

Then he told her of Lady Sansa. He told Dany of the things that Ramsay had done. The horrible things he had done. How Ramsay had made him watch every night as he did those things to Sansa. Even Yara was shocked. Dany tried to hide her revulsion but Theon saw how uncomfortable she looked as he recounted how Ramsay had played with Sansa - how he humiliated her behind closed doors - how he cut and flayed her everywhere that could be covered by clothes. How he did unnatural things to her elsewhere. How Reek was made to watch.

Then Theon told them of Sansa and how she stood up to Myranda. How despite everything she had steel in her veins and how when they had the opportunity when Stannis marched on Winterfell they took it and that they fled.

Theon trembled. Both women who usually had so much to say were just staring at him.

He continued.

"Sansa was stronger than me. She is a true Lady but she is strong - she is not broken like I am - was." He looked a Yara. She nodded in encouragement. "She did not let him break her."

Daenearys took a breath. "Well I am glad to hear that and I am sure Lord Tyrion will as well."

Theon knew Tyrion had married Sansa and he wished he had kept her as his wife. Then Sansa would have never been subjected to such treatment at the hands of Ramsay.

"I am to meet with Lady Sansa and the new King in the North - Jon Snow, as you know."

Daenearys pulled out quill.

"Do they know your hand?"

Theon nodded.

She then pulled out a blank scroll of parchment.

"Shall we write the wolves a letter?" she said as she raised an eyebrow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'll write a Winterfell chapter tomorrow.


	15. Jon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jon and Sansa leave the crypts.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just to give ya'll something...

Jon did not know why but he was angry to be interrupted by Pod.

Interrupted from what he did not know. Surely he had not meant to kiss Sansa but he felt as if he were about to. And she did not pull away. What he had meant to do he did not know.

He had been so close to Sansa he had felt her heart beat. Or was it his.

"Two hearts that beat as one." Mance Rayder's mocking words rang bitter in his head he remembered the King Beyond the Wall once said it. Jon had thought it once when he thought of Ygritte. Jon had seldom felt so confused. Sansa was his sister these familiar feelings were wrong. It had happened so slow and so fast all at once. I was protecting her he thought. In his arms she was close. Her heart beat with his. He held her and his body liked the feeling of her in his arms.

She had not pulled away though, she had not moved away he thought again.

A shadow of a mouse much smaller than the one he just killed danced away in the flames and brought Jon away from these thoughts as his free hand wrapped the hilt of his sword.

They walked through the corridors around the spirals of the crypts of the dead making their way back to where he and Sansa had placed Rickon.

Pod moved slowly just as he and Sansa had apprehensively as they had been when he and his sister made their way to the older sections. Jon knew he could not fault Pod. There was reason to fear the dead. Perhaps the Freefolk had told him of Hardhome. Of how the dead came walking again. Perhaps Pod was just craven or perhaps it was the rat.

Jon reached Rickon's statue and looked back at Sansa and Pod who had been following.

"Podrick give us another moment with our brother and we will meet you outside the crypts." Jon's voice was more commanding than he had meant but nonetheless he needed another moment with Sansa.

As the flame from Pod's torch grew too small to see any longer Jon turned to Sansa.

She was not crying as she looked at the statue of their brother. For that Jon was thankful. He did not like to see her tears.

He moved the torch up to give light to her face.

She was beautiful. More beautiful than Ygritte. More beautiful than her Lady Mother. Surely Lord Tyrion would try to take her South again.

Jon's brow furrowed but when Sansa looked to him he felt an ease.

Sansa then looked down the corridor. Back to their father's crypt.

Perhaps she is upset at Jon for whatever embrace they had been just before Pod interrupted their venture into the old section. He felt the need to apologize.

"Sansa - I -I - did not mean -"

She cut him off.

"Jon, how did you know to place Rickon here?"

Jon looked to where she was looking and rose his torch to look around the crypt where they stood.

He did not expect that question but was relieved not to have to explain himself.

One floor contains a long line of granite pillars, two by two, between which are entombed the dead.

Rickon had been placed just two from Lord Rickard.

Jon spoke "I followed the pattern of the previous Lords and left a space for the Lord and heir. He bid Sansa to look "here is Torrhen Stark, as well as Lords Cregan and Rickard and Rickard's children, Brandon and Lyanna. There is father's space and I left a space for Robb as he was Lord and King. Then I placed Rickon here as he was the next Lord of Winterfell during the Bolton occupation."

Sansa looked again at Rickon's sealed crypt and then at the crypt where their father would be.

"Yes, Jon I see that but look." Jon did not follow her so she continued.

"Robb did not have his name inscribed on his tomb as Father has done. Father knew Robb was his heir long ago why had he not inscribed his name? And why if it is so easy to follow the pattern that Grandfather and his father had done did our Father even need to write his name amongst his crypt only to have a statue placed above it?"

Jon looked back to the other tombs.

"You see the tombs further back are empty and unsealed. Meant for Starks not even born. For our children." Sansa stepped closer to Jon as she said that. "See - Even this one you left for Robb is empty and unsealed. Why has father sealed his and placed his name upon the granite?"

Jon did not know.

Before he knew it Sansa reached down and made to lift the slab.

Jon dropped the flame and moved with her to removed the large slab that sealed the tomb.

He was strong and to his surprise Sansa did her part to slide the large granite slab aside.

Jon made for the flame again and when he waived it overhead the light revealed the tomb was not empty.

Sansa was right he thought. There was something father wished to be sealed away in the depths of the crypts.

Sansa was already into the tomb.

Sansa reached down inside and pulled a cloak that had been neatly folded.

She looked up at Jon. He was silent.

"It is a marriage cloak Jon, see how large it is and how embellished it is." she slid her fingers down the seams of black that glittered with red.

She would know a marriage cloak he thought, having had two placed upon her own shoulders.

She untied the cloak and revealed its contents.

A golden harp, two crowns - one of Rubies and One of Blue Winter Roses, and a parchment sealed with their Fathers personal sigil addressed to his heir. His seal was two wolves signaling he was the second son.

"It is written in Father's hand." Sansa said as she looked to Jon.

Jon nodded to proceed. Father had meant to take these secrets to the grave he thought. Maybe this was his will. Perhaps it was meant for Robb. Jon's stomach turned thinking it was not meant for him. He was not meant to be here. He was not meant to know what Lord Eddard was hiding in his crypt.

"You are his heir now Sansa. You are true born. You should open it."

Jon could see Sansa roll her eyes with that comment.

"A King in the North who still believes he is not a Stark." She mocked him.

"You are the Stark Sansa." Jon bit back.

Jon saw her tremble as her fingers moved to break the seal.

She is just as nervous as I, he thought.

She stood back up from the crypt, closer to Jon, for light or protection he did not know.

As Sansa read the letter in silence Jon looked down at the contents of the cloak once more. Starks did not wear Ruby Crowns. The Crown of the North was different. It was an open circlet of hammered bronze with nine black iron spikes wrought in the shape of longswords, not a crown of gold with rubies. The North would not use Rubies. The Other Crown was of Blue Winter Roses, small as if for a woman. He supposed it could be of the North but no Queens in the North had existed since Thorren Stark bent the knee to Aegon the Conqueror and he did not know if Queens had been crowned then.

Then he made to look at the cloak itself.

He saw red lines and teeth and then a head.

"Jon."

She looked at him as she had finished reading.

Sansa gave Jon a small smile. "Perhaps you are not a Stark in name after all." and she handed him the letter.


	16. Arya

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arya remembers the siege and gets a visitor.

Arya walked amongst the men. They bent the knee easy enough. They remembered her Uncle the Blackfish and were happy to have him retake the castle.

The Frey men had been craven but her plan was too good for them nonetheless. They would not have made it out of Riverrun if they had fought or fled. 

She and her Uncle had swam in and stole away through the water gate beneath a ship. When through they killed the Freys that stood guard and tied the men aboard the boat they had stolen away on up. They had no part in this.

They took water stair leads from the lower bailey up to the castle. She followed Brynden and as he released the the drawbridge down the Freys scrambled, not knowing the cause of the bridge coming down and in the night, not knowing what or who made to enter.

Men scrambled. Torches were lit along the battlements and Riverrun's towers. 

It was then Arya slipped into the She-Wolf.

Howling and writhing the great pack of a hundred wolves came into Riverrun. In the Wolf's eyes Arya had only seen teeth and blood, too hard to tell which man was being killed and which lay dead in the red stained keep of Riverrun. She saw Freys fighting, Freys falling and Freys running, all in vain for no Frey had a chance when the pack was upon them. Arrows were loosed upon them, piercing some of the wolfpack but that did not stop the wolves. When the last Frey was dead Arya slipped out of the wolf. It was then the giant wolf rounded the corner where she was and had looked her in the eye.

The wolf's eyes were golden. She knew them. It was her wolf, Nymeria.

She had grown wild as Arya had. But just as Arya had Nymeria knew she needed to return to her place. To be a Stark. 

The wolf was bloody. Frey blood, Arya thought.

Arya nodded at the wolf and the wolf turned. The pack followed. Out the gates just as they came, only now bodies of their enemies paved the ground they exited.

They had Lord Emmon Frey and Lady Genna Lannister thrown in the dungeons. Which is where she was going this day.

The dungeons of Riverrun are windowless, their doors heavy and made of wood and iron. Gemma Lannister and Emmon Frey had been given more comforts than Arya thought they deserved but this was the Blackfish's doing.

Emmon was a fool that was plain. He should be killed, Arya thought. No Frey would ransom him and if she had trusted Edmure's command more she would have him take the Twins for himself. That is a plan for another day Arya thought.

But Genna Lannister was no fool. How could she be, she was the sister of Tywin.

Arya found she did not mind speaking to Genna. Her husband was a fool, yes, but that was not the match she would have made and she told Arya as much. Arya found that Genna told her whatever she wished to know.

Arya brought her duck mutton on this day. She was fat and Arya found her more receptive to her questions if she brought food.

"Thank you child. I have always loved duck mutton, and there was always extra plates at Casterly Rock. Tywin never much cared for it you see" She said as she forked it into her Lannister mouth.

Arya knew that was true. She had been Tywin's cupbearer and he had given Arya the meal once he hated the dish so.

Arya waited until Genna finished.

Arya handed her a book. It was the tale of Adara and the Ice Dragon. Old Nan had heard the tale before. It was for children.

"If you're bored My Lady."

Genna looked the book and gave Arya a small smile.

Genna had told Arya what she knew of Westeros. Nothing of the North really, only that Tywin had given it to the Boltons. That she knew. But Genna was forthcoming with information of the South. About Cersei becoming Queen of the Seven Kingdoms upon Tommen's death and how Jamie Lannister commanded the Gold Cloaks.

She wants me to ransom her to them Arya thought.

It would not be so bad. To give Genna to the Lannisters. 

Genna spoke of Tyrion too. How he had married Sansa but had run away not to be found.

Arya scoffed at that. She did not like thinking of her sister with the Imp.

Genna had told Arya much of her niece and nephews. She had been a mother to them after Lady Joanna had died. She always pinched the ear of Jaime Lannister she had said and Arya liked to think that Genna dragging the Kingslayer about his ears. She had spoken of how smart Tyrion was, how he was most like Tywin than his other children. 

This day she told Arya of Cersei and when Genna made to smile and recount some sweet tale of her niece Arya interjected.

"I knew Cersei." Arya said. "I knew her in the Capital when she and Joffery took my Father's head."

Genna recognized Arya's hate.

"I knew her before that child. When she was just a girl who dreamed of marrying the Prince."

Arya listened on.

"You see when the Prince Viserys was born Tywin organized a tourney be held in honor of the birth of the new Prince. It was Tywin's plan to propose the marriage of Cersei to Rhaegar the Crown Prince. You see the Prince Rhaegar was beautiful and an honorable Knight. He was gentle and played the harp and sang to the small folk."

Arya did not much care about Rhaegar and in the North they did not speak of him in this way for he had stolen her Aunt and caused a great Rebellion.

"But the Mad King laughed at Tywin's offer saying Cersei was too lowborn and that Tywin, who was his hand, was but a servant to the crown. You see he blocked their betrothal out of spite."

Genna was upset recounting the tale.

"Ohh and how her heart was broken when she was not betrothed to the Prince Rhaegar and instead he married Elia of Dorne."

Arya was reminded of Sansa and how she had said she was heartbroken when their father meant to break her betrothal to Joffery.

Arya looked at Genna. "In the end she wed the King who she had no love for."

Arya did not wish to think of Cersei like this. As a lovestruck girl made unhappy in a forced marriage made for politics.

That was enough for Arya on this day.

"I suppose we do not always get to marry the one we wish to." Arya said, the words that came from her mouth surprised her.

She found herself thinking of Gendry.

Genna was taken aback.

Arya cut back, "Had my brother Robb been King in the North still and the Freys not killed him as cowards at a wedding I would have been to marry one of them."

Genna knew this Arya thought. Mayhaps one of her sons would have been Arya's match.

Arya looked down the corridor to Emmon's cell. "And surely Emmon was no Rhaegar Targaryen."

Genna gave a small laugh at this and Arya walked away.

 

xxxxxx

 

In her chamber she braided her hair. It had grown long. She had not cut it since she was with the Hound. Arya still wore breeches and tunics but allowed her hair to grow long. Braids kept it back well enough and it reminded her of when she was in the North.

Oft Sansa had braided her hair. Sansa loved to dress Arya up mostly because Arya hated it so. Whenever there had been a feast Sansa had loved to put her in her old gowns with pretty lace and embellishments. Arya hated them. She did not mind though when Sansa braided her hair. They had always worn it as it was in the North. In the South the hair was worn down and pulled to two sides or made to sit high on the head. It was not practical. Queen Cersei hardly could hardly eat without tilting her head as her hair would not fall out of place much less sit a horse. In the North the braids were plaited so that the women could move and work, it was not for show as it was in the South. 

Arya let Sansa tell her the tales of Jonquil and sometimes Arya would tell Sansa the tales of Nymeria of the Rhoynar or Visenya Targaryen. Sansa had favored Rhaenys though and Arya had to remind her of how she fell to the Dornish when she could not stay atop her own dragon. 

Now Arya had to do her own hair. She plaited it back in the front across and parted it in the middle. The two braids met in the middle to form a large braid in the back. She had seen Sansa wear it in this style. It was prettier when Sansa wore it, she thought. 

A knock came at the door. A serving girl.

"Pardon Milady, Ser Brynden says there's someone at the gate."

Arya raised an eyebrow.

"Someone thats come for you Milady."

Arya moved to the door and put Needle in her belt on her way out her chamber door. The Blackfish was already at the Great Hall. Inside the Great Hall of Riverrun there was a private audience chamber above the main hall with a high seat for the lord. Edmure was there as well although Arya did not know why.

Arya sat just one seat from the Blackfish. Signaling to Edmure her position as second in command.

The servants opened the door to receive the visitor.

Arya recognized the Red Woman immediately.

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter is Sam. Then one more Sansa then a Jon for enduring more world building.


	17. Sam

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam in Old Town.

Sam had wrapped the blade and carried it across his back rather than on his belt. Maester's had no need of swords and that would surely draw eyes no matter what the blade was. But his sword was no ordinary blade and Heartsbane would fetch more than enough dragons to warrant taking Sam's head.

He walked down the streets of Old Town as he did every day. The Citadel did not know much of the ongoings in Westeros. They had not even known Lord Commander Mormont had been killed and that Jon had been voted the 998th Lord Commander by his brothers. The Maesters had their heads in their books Sam thought. He knew that if he had not had any urgency to find how to kill the undead he too would be distracted by all of the knowledge the Citadel offered. Even in the library at Castle Black he forgot meals and lost track of the hours.

Where the Maesters did not know news of Westeros the docks told a different story. Sam had taken many lunches to read on the docks to listen. The sailors were from Dorne, the North, the Iron Islands, from Lannisport to Braavos sailors had docked in Old Town. In Dorne he heard the Dragon Queen, Maester Aemon's kin Daenaerys had a huge fleet and three dragons and meant to take the Iron Throne. He had heard that where King Stannis had lost his battle to the Boltons that Jon had taken arms and recaptured Winterfell for his sister and became the new King in the North. He had heard that the Freys and the Riverlands were in great turmoil after Arya Stark had killed most of their line and with only the aid of her Uncle Brynden the Blackfish recaptured Riverrun. He had heard of the Iron Born setting sail for Kings Landing although almost no one knew what that meant.

Today as he finished lunch he wandered the squares in town. He ventured into the last smithy in all of Old Town he hadn't visited. He played the fool as he always had when he came into the shop.

A young boy jet black hair and huge arms was in the back banging shoes. An old woman came to Sam as he entered the doors.

"Have a'horse that needs shoes Maester?" she asked. 

She was missing a tooth in the front and looked just as dirty as the smith. Sam wondered if she banged horses shoes too.

"Ah no, not today. You see I'm not a Maester yet and I wonder if I might speak with your husband or son about Valyrian Steel. You see the scrolls in the Citadel don't have much on record and I am hoping a smith might tell me more that the books know."

She looked upon Sam again.

"For a silver stag, perhaps?" Sam said realizing she needed the money more than he anyways.

She looked back at the boy. 

"He's not my son. He's been helpin' me since my husband died o'er a year ago. Would have lost the shop if not. I had to make the shoes me self for a bit til he came. He's a good boy and he'll answer your questions Maester."

The boy came forward.

"Well you see, I'm hoping you know about Valyrian Steel. How its made, really." Sam said directed at the boy.

The old woman left after she got her silver piece. She must have been hungry because Sam saw her make for the bakery across the yard.

"Never made any Valyrian Steel." He said.

Sam felt as disappointed as ever. He shouldn't have, after all none of the smiths knew why should this one be any different.

"I see." Sam said.

"I only saw it reforged once." the boy said.

Sam's heart jumped.

"You-You mean you've forged actual Valyrian Steel?" Sam must have startled the boy because he took a step back.

He picked up some shoes again and made for his hammer.

"Not me. It was under my old master, Tobho Mott" 

The boy smiled and then looked down at the shoes again.

"Before I made shoes so an old woman could eat I used to be a 'prentice in Kings Landing. Used to forge armor and weapons for the nobility. Did work for Lord Arryn of the Vale even."

Sam could hardly believe the last shop he thought might have his answers he should have started with.

The boy continued as he stoked a fire.

"Me old master was from the Free Cities so he learned 'bout the Valyrian Steel there. When Tywin Lannister brought him a Valyrian Steel bastard longsword my master made it into three blades for King Joffery and the Kingslayer. The last blade was a dagger. Lord Tywin must've given that one to King Tommen or kept it himself I s'pose. "

The boy looked at Sam.

"Not much Valyrian Steel left though. 'suppose I'll never see it again working here."

He pulled up another pair of horseshoes.

Sam checked the street again to make sure they were alone and then removed the wrapped sword from his pack.

The boys eyes lit up at the sword.

"What did you say your name was?" he said, questioning not his name but how he had the sword Sam knew.

"Sam. This is my family's sword though. Hearts bane. I am a Tarly of Horn Hill you see - or I was before I took my vows. I'm studyin' to be a Maester but I'm a Brother of the Night's Watch as well you see-and Jon - Jon Snow-or Jon Stark now I suppose, sent me here to learn so we could fight against the long night, you see in the North-"

The boy interrupted.

"Stark - as in Lord Stark, King Robert's hand? The Starks of Winterfell?"

Sam smiled "Why yes, Jon is his son - well bastard son really but he has taken Winterfell, You see -"

The boy interrupted again.

"I'll go with you. I'll go to serve house Stark."

Sam was quite taken aback. 

The boy continued "I'll tell you anything you want to know and I'll make the Starks a thousand swords."

Sam did not know what to think but was happy for it.

"What did you say your name was?"

"Gendry." The boy replied.

"Gendry Waters."


	18. Brienne

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bran and Meera wake up.

She had dark hair. Like Jon's, Brienne thought. Maybe curlier. 

She was short and slim. She must not have been eating regularly beyond the Wall or wherever they had come from.

Brienne stood at the door and had let Meera in the room with Brandon. They were both devouring the oatcakes Sansa had sent up for Brienne when she had returned.

Brienne would send Pod for more food when he returned but she would not trust the servants to see into the chambers. Not yet at least as Sansa had said.

Brienne had seen the net and the sword Meera had with her and when all the oatcakes were gone she thought she might ask her about it.

"You are a fighter Lady Meera?"

Meera looked at Bran and then looked up.

Brienne was used to people looking up at her but the girl was smaller than most. She had heard that crangomen of the Neck were small because they only at frogs but truth be told Arya Stark might have been the same size. Sansa was taller than most girls and Brienne could hardly tell anymore who was shorter or smaller than they should be when she towered over everyone as she did.

"I throw spears and nets. It is how we hunt in the Neck."

Brienne looked back at the sword.

"I see you have a sword with you, Is that yours Lord Brandon?"

Bran looked up now at her. Bran's eyes pierced her and she thought that the way he looked at her it was as if he had known her his whole life. He was sitting up in the bed covered in furs, perfectly upright next to Meera. He looked as if he would be tall if he could stand but Brienne had heard he could not.

"It is Meera's now."

Brienne looked at the sword again. Valyrian Steel just as hers was. Small as if made for a woman - a smaller woman than Brienne though.

Brienne had seen this sword before she thought. In the story books...

Just as Brienne placed the sword of legend Bran spoke.

"You are correct Lady Brienne. It is the sword of Visenya Targaryen. Dark Sister."

Brienne was shocked.

"Dark Sister" she said in almost a whisper.

The story of Visenya Targaryen was a favorite of Brinenne's. It was in part why she ever picked up a sword to begin with so many years ago.

"Visenya was the warrior sister." Brienne said as she looked back at Meera. "When Aegon the Conqueror came to Westeros he brought his sister wives with him. Rhaenys was a great beauty but Visenya was a great warrior. Rhaenys was beautiful and wore dresses and played the part of lover and beauty to Aegon. Visenya is the more likely than Rhaenys to garb herself as a warrior, and when so garbed, she would wield the Valyrian steel sword Dark Sister, whose slender blade is designed for a woman's hand."

Brienne picked up the blade and noted how it was dwarfed compared to Oathkeeper at her belt.

Brienne continued, "She often braided her hair or bound it up in rings, while Rhaenys wore hers loose and flowing."

She saw Meera look up at her short hair.

"Visenya and her siblings took Harrenhall from the sky and then it was Visenya that was sent by Aegon I to demand the submission of the lords of Crackclaw Point. The lords understood that they had no chance, so they laid their swords at her feet. Visenya took them as her own men and they would owe no fealty but to the Iron Throne."

Meera listened and Bran looked on. Surely they knew the story and were indulging Brienne.

"But Visenya was not the last Targaryen to wield Dark Sister..."

Brienne thought of her lessons. "So many Targaryens had inherited Dark Sister. Prince Daemon, King Jaehaerys I Targaryen himself gave him Dark Sister for his prowess, then it Prince Aemon the Dragonknight had his turn with the blade...last it was Lord Brynden Rivers. The Bloodraven. The Sorcerer."

Bran spoke now.

"That is who Meera received it from."

Brienne's eyes cut back at Bran.

Brienne knew the stories of the Bloodraven.

How many eyes does Lord Bloodraven have? the riddle ran. A thousand eyes, and one. Some claimed the King's Hand was a student of the dark arts who could change his face, put on the likeness of a one-eyed dog, even turn into a mist. Packs of gaunt gray wolves hunted down his foes, men said, and carrion crows spied for him and whispered secrets in his ear. Most of the tales were only tales she thought, but no one could doubt that Bloodraven had informers everywhere for they said the trees were his eyes.

Bran looked Brienne in the eyes.

"He was with us, beyond the Wall."

Brienne did not know why she believed Brandon Stark but she did. He had a way of knowing her thoughts almost.

Just when Brienne was in her thoughts Pod came through the door. 

"They are coming Lady Brienne." He said, proud that he had fetched them he supposed.

Brienne stood up straight.

"Thank you Pod. Now fetch us two plates from the kitchens. No words, Pod. Just the dinners, understand?"

He nodded and left as Lady Sansa and King Jon came through the door.

Sansa ran to Bran.

Jon smiled.

Bran looked as calm as ever but gave into Sansa's hugs.

"I'll leave you." Brienne said as she closed the door, her thoughts drifted to Visenya Targaryen as she stood guard.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My least favorite chapters when I read the books were Bran POVs so it may seem as if I am passing over Bran and yeah that's probably right on. 
> 
> Jonsa next then to RR.


	19. SANSA

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Back to the Chamber.

They were in the Solar of Lord's Chamber this night. Meera and Brienne had taken the chamber Sansa once shared with Ayra, the one she meant to share with Brienne.

Bran had taken his old room, as it should be Sansa thought. 

When Sansa and Jon left Bran to rest again Sansa had thought she might make good on the promise she had once made to Jon, to sleep next to both him and Bran every night and be unproper. 

Bran needed rest Sansa knew and too much had changed but she and Jon must continue as they had before. Late nights as she his counsel and he the King pouring over scrolls and maps. Too much was different after today but Sansa knew everything must remain the same to their court and to their men.

Knowledge was power in the Game of Thrones and today she had learned secrets that could tip the scales in the Starks favor or have men come for their heads.

Pod played the errand boy today and she had sent him to the rookery to retrieve any messages that came from the ravens before sending him to retire in the barracks.

Sansa had also brought their papers and the maps that had once been in Jon's chamber into the Lord's chamber at had them set upon the table their father had once used. Her father she thought.

Jon had Ghost outside the door to guard and locked the heavy door behind him.

Sansa moved to the bed and laid out the cloak and its contents.

Jon stood behind her breathing heavy. They had not spoke of this again since they left the crypts. Not even to Bran although something made Sansa think he knew. Bran was changed she thought. 

Bran had told them of being beyond the Wall, of green seeing, of warging and the Night's King. Of the Mark he placed on his arm the lifted when came through the wall but that still connected his visions to the King's visions. Bran knew what the King was doing where he was moving he had said that his thoughts were not his own sometimes and he could be in the mind of the undead if he wanted and sometimes when he did not want.

Sansa recalled how Jon looked at Bran. Jon understood, she thought. He knew what it was to skin change.

Sansa thought of Lady. Might I have been a skin changer she thought, had I taken Arya's side and protected her and Nymeria rather than lied for Joffery. Foolish she thought. A foolish girl.

She was looking down when Jon handed her the Crown of Blue Roses.

"Lyanna" Jon said.

"Rhaegar had made her his Queen and she had loved him."

Jon always looked sad but tonight he was more sullen than ever Sansa thought. 

"Do not look so sullen Jon, at least you are no bastard now." Sansa meant to tease him, she hoped it would bring a smile to his face.

It had not.

"In the South they do not speak of Rhaegar as the do in the North. Too many know the tale that was told that the Prince had stolen Lyanna here, but in the South they remember Rhaegar as they saw him." Sansa said.

Jon had looked up from the Ruby Crown he held.

"Rhaegar was tall and beautiful, with dark indigo eyes and the silver hair of House Targaryen, worn long and flowing. He was considered to be a talented musician and skilled knight. The prince was well-loved by the people and court alike Jon. They said he loved to sing."

Sansa had learned all this in the South. "Even after King Robert won the Battle of the Trident the people and the songs oft remembered Rhaegar favorably."

The crown Jon held Sansa knew. It was the Crown of Aegon I, Aegon the Conqueror. She had thought it gold in the shadows of the crypts but in the light it was steel. Valyrian Steel Sansa thought, just as Joffery's sword had been. The Crown was thought long lost in Dorne with Daeron I but somehow it had made it's way into her fathers crypt to offer proof as to Jon's true born birth. He was meant to be a King she thought. Not the King in the North, the King of the Seven Kingdoms.

Sansa took the crown from Jon's hands and replaced it with the Crown of Blue Winter Roses.

"I also heard of the Tourney at Harrenhall. Father never told us the tale because many thought he fell in love with Ashara Dayne there, as mother had thought, but I had heard of the Tourney in Kings Landing and asked about it from Lord Manderly before he left."

Sansa did not tell Jon she had originally heard the tale from Petyr and the Ashara bit from Cersei when she had been in her cups. Today was hard enough without bringing Littlefinger or Cersei into it and for the purposes of the story acknowledging their part was not required, besides Lord Manderly had confirmed the events.

Perhaps Petyr knew more than he had let on that day in the crypts though, but Sansa would worry about that later, when they knew what to make of this.

She continued with her story.

"Lord Walter Whent announced a tourney would be held at Harrenhal to rival any previous tournament. It is believed by some that the tourney was secretly arranged and financed by Prince Rhaegar, as a pretext, so Rhaegar could meet up with the great lords of the realm to discuss arranging a Great Council and the removal of his father - the Mad King - for Rhaegar knew the King was growing dangerous and the realm would suffer under him."

Jon winced. 

Sansa knew he was thinking of the stories they had heard. Of the Mad King burning their grandfather, Rickard and that Uncle Brandon choked himself trying to save his father from the flames while the Mad King laughed.

Sansa shuttered with that thought as well and thought it best to continue.

"The Mad King attended as well though when he learned that Rhaegar meant to betray him. And when a Mystery Knight entered the tourney the Mad King thought he was mocking him so he sent Rhaegar and the Kingsguard to discover the true identity of the Knight."

Jon moved his hand along the crown but now he looked Sansa in the eyes.

"You see, the Knight was defending the honor of Lord Reed - Meera's father. The Knight was called 'The Knight of the Laughing Tree' but before anyone could discover the identity the Knight had disappeared."

Jon was listening intently now.

"Who do they say it was?"

Sansa smiled. "No one knows. But many believe it was father or Uncle Benjen, for they were just boys at the time and Knight of the Laughing Tree was small but an excellent horsemen. Father and Uncle Benjen were the sort to protect their banner men from the Neck." 

Jon smiled at that.

Sansa continued as she moved towards Jon.

"I do not believe it was a Lord Stark though."

Jon frowned.

"I believe it was Aunt Lyanna....They say she was like Arya always shooting arrows and playing in the yards and that she rode a horse better than Father and Uncle Brandon even, and I think that when Prince Rhaegar discovered it was her defending Howland Reed's honor he fell in love with her."

Sansa was close to Jon now.

She held her hands against his and the Blue Rose Crown.

"You see, when Rhaegar won the joust the next day he was the champion , defeating four knights of the Kingsguard, and in the end he chose Aunt Lyanna as the new queen of love and beauty, placing a crown of blue winter roses in her lap passing his own wife Elia of Dorne in favor of your mother."

Jon looked at the winter rose crown and then looked at cloak upon the bed.

"You see Jon he did not steal her away, they ran away together, to be married."

Sansa could tell this still bothered him. She was happy for it although she did not know why. This complicated claims in ways she could not even begin to think on yet. Maybe it was because her father had not forgotten his honor. Maybe it was for Jon to know his true parentage. Maybe she thought, it was because she still loved the stories and songs. Jon was her cousin and that had made her happy even if Jon looked solemn in this knowledge.

"The North will not love a Targaryen. They would have me be a Snow and a Bastard over a Dragon, Sansa you know that."

Sansa thought on his words. We will not tell anyone yet Jon. Knowledge is power and this is something that must stay between us for now. If we need to use this we can but father has provided us with all the evidence should you need to make known Aunt Lyanna was your mother.

Sansa came to Jon's shoulder and placed her head on it looking around him upon the bed again.

Jon moved his arm around her.

Sansa moved her arm across him and held him. Her cousin, she thought. Jon was her cousin.

He pulled her in for an embrace and spoke softly in her ear. "Let's place this in back in the crypt on the 'morrow. I do not wish to have it about. As you said we will not use it until we need it."

As she pulled from him she moved to the letters and papers she brought with her again and began to speak of tomorrow.

"Just two days and Davos and Tormund leave to take Last Hearth and Karhold and less than a fortnight Tyrion and his Dragon Queen come to Winterfell."

Sansa thought on that now.

"She is your Aunt."

Sansa laughed a bit as Jon sat across from her at the table.

"Are you going to marry your Aunt Jon?"

Jon cracked a smile.

"Aye, Sansa at least she is not an imp."

Sansa did not laugh at that. 

"Well Jon you will surely be a Targaryen if you go marrying your Aunt."

Jon's laugher stopped with this "Aye Sansa, but the Targaryens married their siblings, but lucky for you, you are no longer my sister or I'd have to put another Marriage cloak on your shoulders this time a dragon."

Sansa felt flushed again and she thought of before, when they were in the crypts. The feeling that came across her then in her chest when Jon held her close protecting her. 

To her surprise Jon gave a final laugh. "Sansa do not be angry."

She cut her eyes at him and his gaze met her, his tone turned serious and he reached for her hand.

Heat rose from her chest and up her neck as he grabbed her hand. Then she was cold. Her body was betraying her as sensations and emotions caused her to be paralyzed with his touch.

Maybe she was still wary of men as she thought of Ramsay. But this was different. Almost the way she felt the day Loras had given her a favor at the tournament in Kings Landing. Anxious but yet she craved more of this feeling not scared as she had been upon Ramsay's touch.

Jon spoke and took her from her thoughts.

"I will not have you wed again until you decide you wish to. No man even your ex-husband will take you from Winterfell unless you wish it."

Sansa calmed herself and began shuffling her papers. She did not want to marry Tyrion but she knew that might mean Jon accepting an offer from the Dragon Queen. 

Sansa looked to the bed again. She thought if Tyrion might believe this and take the evidence as fact. He might she thought, but it would not suit Deanery's claim to have a male Targaryen heir.

Sansa thought again, and shook Jon's hand as she moved her gaze from the marriage cloak back to Jon.

"What Bran said about skin changing.... warning as you called it."

Jon looked at her puzzled at the sudden change of topic, he must be thinking of taking his Aunt as his wife, she thought.

"Do you think you could slip into a dragon?"

Jon looked dumbfounded, "A Dragon? I do not know. The Wildlings called me a Warg. But I am a poor one I believe. There was another warg named Orell who had changed skins with his eagle at will. I mostly only dream in Ghost's skin and cannot choose when I slip into him."

Sansa thought on it. "Mayhaps Bran could teach you. Teach us." 

Jon was puzzled she could tell.

"The Dragon Queen has three dragons."

Jon looked up as she continued.

"There are three Starks now."


	20. Daenerys

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tyrion lectures Dany.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I updated this (added the entire meeting between Dany and Allyria on 11-29)

She walked to his chambers. He did not enjoy the gardens as she did. He spent his days looking over scrolls and writing letters. No good had come of them. No good yet she thought.

"My Queen."

Tyrion stood as he saw her.

She was alone. Grey Worm remained outside the chamber doors.

"Tell me my Queen what have you learned of Jon Snow and the Lady Sansa?" Tyrion mocked, he already knew what she knew he is just testing me. Seeing if I have deduced the correct information from her allies. She wasn't interested in what she did know though, she was interested in what she did not know. What no one knew.

"I think I understand the North better than you might think, Tyrion."

She raised an eyebrow as she walked around his chamber. Books everywhere and she picked up one of the Great Houses of Westeros and made to thumb through.

"Tell me Tyrion, who is Jon Snow's mother?"

Tyrion looked up from his papers. That was a question he did not expect.

"Lords and Kings have bastards all over the Seven Kingdoms. It is hard to know."

Dany did not accept this answer though. She pushed him.

"Theon mentioned a serving girl, heard the name Wylla once while in Winterfell." Dany said as she turned the pages of the book.

"Olenna said Ashara Dayne."

Tyrion nodded with that.

Dany remained silent. Letting Tyrion know it was his turn to speak. To indulge her inquiry.

Tyrion rose. His short legs made his way over to her and grabbed the book. He moved through it quickly and revealed the pages that detailed Starfall and the Daynes.

He bid her to sit.

She did as she looked upon the pages. Looking at the sigil of Purple with a fallen star intersecting a longsword and a history of their lords.

Tyrion sighed as he began. "Before you were born there was a great tourney. Spread over ten days it was the greatest tourney of its time. Your brother Rhaegar entered the lists and your Father the King Aerys came as well. Many great Knights including the Knights of the Kingsguard - Ser Barristan Selmy, Ser Oswell Whent, Ser Arthur Dayne and so forth were entered in the lists too. Ser Arthur Dayne was a great Knight and it is said he was your brother Rhaegar's only true friend."

Dany looked at the page again and took her hand across the star as she turned the page.

"The Sword of the Morning is a title of House Dayne bestowed on the knight who bears the ancestral greatsword Dawn. Only a knight of House Dayne who is deemed worthy can carry it. For this reason, the Swords of the Morning are all famous throughout the Seven Kingdoms. If there is no Dayne knight considered worthy, the title lies dormant. See Arthur Dayne was the last to bear the title. You see he was not only a worthy swordsmen but a chivalrous and honorable knight as well."

Dany thought on that while looking down at the page that had a drawing of Dawn.

Tyrion continued.

"At the tourney was also Ser Arthur's sister. The Lady Ashara. Many Knights thought to win her favor. Ashara was tall, with long dark hair and haunting violet eyes. She had a reputation for great beauty. Many men were infatuated with her. It is said that she fell in love with Ned Stark, who was not promised to Catelyn Tully at the time, for he was not the type of man to forget his honor either."

Dany looked at Tyrion with that. 

"But he did." Dany interjected.

Tyrion continued without acknowledging her comment.

"After the tourney it was said that a man dishonored the Lady Ashara and she came to be with child outside the bonds of marriage, but in the end she lost the babe as well as it was a stillborn. Tragedy came to Lady Ashara again when the war broke out. Rhaegar fell at the Trident and the war was lost. Ser Arthur Dayne, Sword of the Morning died as well and was killed by the man it was said she loved, Eddard Stark. But Ned was honorable and he went to Starfall himself with Ser Arthur's body and to return the ancestral sword Dawn to House Dayne."

Dany felt her heart sink. For her brother or the Lady Ashara she did not know.

"Filled with grief over the loss of her brother or of her child I do not know but the Lady Ashara jumped from the top of one of the towers of Starfall, called the Palestone Sword, on the cliff atop the sea and body was never recovered."

Dany was silent.

"Some believe, Olenna among them, that Ashara's child was not a stillborn but was taken from her by Ned Stark to raise in the North."

Dany looked at the pages of the book again, this page was a map. 

"We are in Dorne now. I see no reason not to visit Starfall.

Dany made for the Dragon keep, she made for her mount, Drogon.

"Well, Lord Tyrion, are you coming?"

xxxxxx

 

She supposed she should have sent a raven. Time did not allow her that courtesy.

Rhaegal and Viserion flew alongside sometimes cutting in and out of sight, perhaps chasing their folly, perhaps finding prey. Dany did not know. Lord Tyrion held on most uncomfortably in front of her. He was small and it was easy enough to accommodate her Hand as a passenger upon Drogon's back. His style for riding Dany found most amusing as she had come to find ease upon the back of her mount. Tyrion was clinging to Drogons scales and ridges. He had earned the trust of the dragons but it was the flying he was scared of, he said men did not belong in the clouds. 

Dany reminded him she was not a man.

Finally Starfall came into sight beyond the Red Mountains at the mouth of the Toretine where the river met the Red Sea. According to legend, Starfall was built there when the first Dayne found a magic stone after he followed the path of a shooting star. The Daynes grew in power to become the Kings of the Torrentine and one of the strongest houses of Dorne. A nice tale to be built upon the stardust, but the Daynes possessed the relic to prove it true, for their ancestral greatsword Dawn was forged from the heart of the star.

Drogon landed and allowed Dany and a somewhat shaken Tyrion to dismount and soon he was in the air with his brothers. Watchful from above.

They approached the castle and a guard rode to meet them. He was as shaken as Tyrion but dismounted his horse and met them with courtesy. Surely he had never expected to see dragons in his lifetime.

Tyrion had composed himself by now and announced her arrival, asking to meet the Lord of the Castle, Lord Edric Dayne.

"My Lord, My Lady, Lord Edric was sent to squire with Ser Beric Dondarrion, last seen in the Riverlands. The Lady Allyria Dayne has charge of his affairs in his stead."

Tyrion looked to her now.

"Very well, we will speak to the Lady Allyria. We request a small audience and will not impose much of her time."

The guard looked up, still shaken.

"Yes, My Lady, I will send word to her."

He bid them to follow them into the castle.

 

xxxxxx

 

They met the Lady Allyria in her solar. It faced a small garden similar to that Dany had grown fond of with her time at the Martell's water gardens. The setting was informal but Dany had come to realize much of the customs in Dorne were informal. The Lady Allyria was young and Dany thought they must be close in age. Olenna had been correct in marking the features of the Daynes. Allaria must have closely resembled her sister, Ashara as she was described by the Queen of Thrones.... She was beautiful and Valyrian in look, and did not resemble Ellaria or the Sand Snakes with their dark Dornish features. 

Allyria looked quite comfortable where her guard had not. 

She dismissed her ladies and bid them shut the door as she poured wine for Tyrion and Dany herself.

As she sat she raised her drink and looked Daenerys straight in the eye. It took her by surprise. Most were not bold enough to look her in the eye, save Yara.

"I wondered if we would ever meet again."


	21. ARYA

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I will be managing chapters this weekend into a new order. I'll give an update where to find new chapters within so readers who have bookmarked won't miss anything.
> 
> Thanks guys.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I will be managing chapters this weekend into a new order. I'll give an update where to find new chapters within so readers who have bookmarked won't miss anything.
> 
> Thanks guys.

"Give me a reason I shouldn't execute you now, Witch?"

The Red Woman simply smiled and looked down. Almost amused with Arya's reaction. 

"I bring news of your family at Winterfell, My Lady."

Arya bit her tongue back.

"Jon Snow and your sister Sansa Stark have reclaimed Winterfell. I was there. I rode with them from Castle Black with their Wildling Army."

Arya looked at her Uncle Brynden.

"We had not received word." the Blackfish cut in, realizing Arya's emotions were getting the better of her.

"Did they send you, My Lady?" he asked.

Now Melisandre came into her own. Coy. Smug in tone. 

"The Lord of Light sent me, Lord Brynden."

The Blackfish had no patience for that nonsense either. He was raised in the Light of the Seven, as her Lady Mother was, but something told Arya he did not put much faith in his Gods either.

Melisandre continued. "When I last met you I saw you would close many eyes. That has been true has it not?"

Arya looked at her Uncle Edmure who was most uneasy, knowing its truth.

Arya nodded.

"When I last saw you I swore I'd shut your eyes for good as well." Arya lashed out.

She heard Edmure turn in his seat with nervousness.

Melisandre only looked away and gave a laugh.

"Not to fear little wolf, your Blacksmith is alive and well."

Arya felt her chest tighten.

"Gendry" she heard herself say.

"Yes, little wolf. I paid his ransom but the Lord of Light did not see it fit for him to serve me in the way I had thought. He was released by Lord Davos and made for Oldtown."

Her palms began to sweat as her heart swelled as she was overcome with emotion. He was alive.

 

xxxxxxxxxx

 

The Blackfish gave Melisandre accommodations in a guest chamber but also posted a guard outside the chamber doors. 

As Arya made for the dungeons she thought over the information Melisandre had brought it was almost too much for Arya accept. Jon and Sansa had reclaimed Winterfell. She was not a lone wolf.

Gendry was at Oldtown. She had thought him dead for so long, how glad she was to be wrong. She wished to send for him at once and have him make for the North together to serve Jon as King in the North. He had not joined her when Robb was King. She would make him now that Jon was. He would not deny her again.

The other news Melisandre had brought was less encouraging. She spoke of the others and the Long Night that approached. That Jon would battle them and emerge as a hero for he was the Azor Ahai reborn.

As she reached Genna Lannister she quieted her steps. 

Not lifting her eyes from the pages of her book Genna spoke "Arya, twice in one day is it?"

Arya bid the guard to open the cell and she entered.

"Sit child." Genna said, almost as if she was asking her own child to sit next to her.

Arya looked at her.

"You spoke fondly of your niece and nephew. The Mad Queen and the Kingslayer."

Genna looked down, Arya knew she hated the names that had been given to them.

"Yes child." she said shaking her head, "I love them even still."

Arya withdrew a piece of parchment and a quill.

"Shall we write them?"

Genna made for the quill and raised an eyebrow to Arya.


	22. Sansa

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note: I added more to this chapter after the original posting.

Sansa woke up again before the first rooster began to crow. 

Jon was breathing heavy beside her. Calm. Steady. Jon's arm is about her waist. Holding her. Making her feel safe. 

It was warm under the furs. The air was crisp and cold against her skin where she lay exposed. Sansa gave a quick glance down the bed. She realized it was not only their furs she was under but that the Targaryen marriage cloak was still draped across the bed.

They were awake most of the night thinking of the ramifications of their recent discovery.

Sansa thought of her Aunt Lyanna and the Prince Rhaegar. It was a sad song Sansa thought. How she ran away to be with her love only to start a war that killed him. How her son had to be hid away as her brother's bastard for protection from her betrothed. 

"Rhaegar loved his Lady Lyanna and the whole Kingdom paid for it." Sansa heard Ser Barristan Selmy say once in the Red Keep when she was in Kings Landing. He was the only Knight of the Kingsguard to survive the Rebellion. Her Father had trusted him and knew him to be a true and honorable Knight. It was when he was escorting Joffery and Tommen he said that. Sansa always had thought he meant to earn Joffery's trust with those words, noting how Robert had made him 'pay' ... now she thought he might have known the truth. The marriage cloak was proof enough of that. 

Sansa felt Jon stir and brought her away from her thoughts.

He breathed in heavily. She rolled towards him. Underneath him almost now, face to face.

She brought her hand to his curls as he blinked awake.

"Good Morning Prince Targaryen." Sansa whispered.

Jon's eyes were barely open but Sansa could see them roll at her jest as a small smile came to his face.

Sansa giggled hushed giggles and continued for her own amusement. "Shame you look like a Northmen. I should have liked to see a Silver Haired Prince."

Jon had clearly had enough.

He pulled her into him to quiet her japes.

"Aye Sansa. You must be careful teasing a dragon, we Targaryens always dance close with madness."

Sansa's quiet giggles slowed. She looked into his gray eyes and brought her hand from his black locks.

She looked down at the cloak of red rubies and dark velvet. 

She was the one who took a deep breath now.

"Whether you are a Targaryen or Stark, the White Walkers you and Bran have described will not care." 

Jon's smiles had left as he must have realized Sansa meant to be serious now. They had no luxury of time and as Sansa looked upon him in the dim morning light, face was solemn as ever.

"I hope the Targaryen blood in you will allow you to control the dragons. To bring fire and light when Winter comes and brings another long night."

Sansa hoped her words would encourage him. To put his mind away from their discovery and to focus on the fight he knew he would face again. Sansa thought of what Bran had described to her. The Night King and his army of wights. She hated thinking of sending anyone to march against that foe.

Jon had said that only dragon glass and Valyrian Steel could kill the Walkers. Some sort of commanders of the undead army. Jon and Brienne were the only ones with the Valyrian Steel blades and as the dragon's glass had been lost beyond the wall then she hoped that a dragon's fire could replace it.

Jon sighed.

"Aye. But first the North. We have already delayed Davos and Tormund a day to see to Last Hearth and Karhold. I should ride with them, it is not right to send men in my stead. I am the King and I should see these tasks be done.

Sansa had not anticipated this. "But - Bra-"

"Bran is fine." Jon interrupted. "And Brienne has returned as well, I do not worry for your safety with her as your personal guard."

Jon must have seen her apprehension.

He moved to smooth her hair from her cheek and Sansa realized he made to kiss her forehead again. 

Sansa closed her eyes as his lips pressed to her skin.

She looked up at him.

Her heart jumped.

"I will return before the Dragon Queen arrives."

Sansa made to move to be out from under him and his Targaryen cloak.

She did not need to show her anger but she did not agree with this choice. She wished to go with him. She never wished to be apart from him. Not since they had reunited at Castle Black.

Sansa moved to fold the cloak. His mind seemed made. He had not asked her should he go, he told her. 

She needed to think of a way out of this decision.

"You do not trust Davos and Tormund?" Sansa said as she made her hands busy with the crowns and scroll.

Jon stirred from the bed with that.

"I - I - " He stumbled in his words. "It is not Davos and Tormund I do not trust it is the North. They will not accept a sworn man to Stannis Baratheon and a Wildling simply taking their castles. 

Sansa knew it was the Karstarks that would be more difficult. Robb had lost their favor and Ramsay had used that to gain their support. Alys Karstark was the last of the Karstarks. Sansa knew her position too well. Alys's betrothed, Daryn Hornwood, as well two of her brothers, Eddard and Torrhen, are killed in the Battle of the Whispering Wood by Jaime Lannister. Her remaining family had pledged for Ramsay and were burned in a mass grave outside Winterfell.

"I will meet with the remaining Karstarks and -"

"Karstark." Sansa interuppted.

He blinked.

"There is one Karstark. Alys."

Jon stood silent.

Sansa now looked Jon in the eye. "Alys Karstark will offer you her hand in marriage. To remain in Karhold." 

Jon looked puzzled. 

"But my seat is Winte-"

Sansa continued. "Bran is Lord of Winterfell. You are King in the North, your home is any Northern House you make it."

"Why -"

Sansa looked Jon straight in his eyes now.

"I married Ramsay Snow to return home to Winterfell. I'm sure Alys Karstark will have no problems with the King in the North as her betrothed."

Jon looked down. 

Sansa knew she must lead him to a new course of action. One she favored as well. One that would have Jon in Winterfell. 

"Marriage is the easiest way to secure an alliance. We need the North to remember why they loved the Starks. For their honor and decency." 

Jon looked up at her. "You wish me to marry her then, to make Karhold my home?"

Jon was pacing in his thoughts.

"No. I wish to hold you here forever. I wish you would never leave my side. But you need to build bridges with more than one within your own camp. To build this Kingdom in the North it might not be best to hide the Freefolk away at Last Hearth but have them marry into our families and join Northern homes."

Jon stood up. Sansa could tell he was following her logic.

"Tormund is not married." He said.

He had understood, Sansa thought as she approached him.

"I will send a raven for Lady Alys. Here we can discuss her options and how she may keep Karhold and her family's name should she accept. Tormund may talk in the yards of his ways with women but we both have seen him with Lady Brienne he is no more wild than Pod."

Sansa gave a small smile. "You can tell him she has red hair as well, mayhaps it will bring him luck."

Jon smiled back at her as he brought his hand to her hair and smoothed his hand the length of her braid.

"I am lucky to have you my council."

They both gave a smile at that.

Sansa brought her hand to meet his at her neck. He was still as warm as he had been when they were under the furs.

She clasped his hand "but first....Cousin, you must return to the crypts" as she moved to grab the cloak and its contents.

 

xxxxxx

Brienne stood behind her. Jon in the seat next to her at the dais. While she was usually silent while hearing the Lords and Commonfolk make their pleas to the King, offering quiet counsel at night she knew it would be Jon that was silent today. This was not the affairs of the North, today she would have to remember her time in the South.

Pod opened the door. Silence crept through the chamber and only the sounds of the doors closing could be heard. Sansa's breathing was steady. Ice ran through her veins.

Her hands rested on the chair arms.

As the Ser Sandor Clegane made his way down the aisle before them his eyes met hers. 

Jon squeezed her hand for encouragement.

Sansa saw the Hound's eyes move from her upwards. She knew he was looking at Brienne. Sansa knew she had thought she killed him to rescue Arya but Arya had evaded them both in the end.

Jon rose.

To Sansa's surprise the Hound knelt.

"Ser Clegane. We bring you hear as a guest. But first the Lady Sansa would like to address you about where your loyalties lay."

Before Sansa spoke the Hound interrupted.

"Fuck this."

Jon was clearly taken aback. He perhaps expected this from a Wildling but not from a Knight. 

"Ser" Jon said matching the Hound's tone. "You are in the presence of Ladies."

The Hound laughed.

"Any woman that can fight like her and dresses like that has heard worse. As for the Lady Sansa, you ask her. Ask her how many times I spared her from the little Lion cunt's beatings. How many times I laid a finger on her."

Jon's eyes cut to Sansa now.

"Go on tell them little bird."

She had not been called 'little bird' or 'little dove' since she was free of the Southerners. Cersei and Joffery and the Hound and even Littlefinger gave her those names. She was no bird. She was a wolf now.

Sansa stood. She reached for Jon's hand and bid him to sit.

"It is true Jon. Ser Clegane, Jon knows your actions that spared me SOME of the abuse I was dealt at the hands of the Lannisters."

The Hound did not respond. He must have known he could have done more.

He had tried to steal her once she thought. When Tyrion led the Lannisters to a victory over Stannis at the Battle of the Blackwater. Joffery had branded him craven for fleeing but Sansa knew the truth. It was not the battle that the Hound was scared of, it was the fire.

"We must know, Ser Clegane, why you mean to pledge to Jon. Why you left the service of the Lannisters."

He looked up.

"I tried to save you. The night of the battle. I meant to take you to the Young Wolf."

Sansa looked at Jon. He bit back the thoughts of Robb, she knew. 

She returned her gaze to the Hound.

"I was Joffery's dog for so long. He was to be the King. I was sworn to him. When Robert was alive the boy was not the monster you knew. Not yet. Not in public."

Sansa let him continue. She knew he was right. On the Kingsroad Sansa herself had been fooled by Joffery. She still hated herself for it.

"I saved your sister for a time. The little she-wolf." He looked at Brienne.

"Fuck the Cersei. Fuck Joffery. Fuck Littlefinger. Fuck the Freys -"

Sansa stopped him.

"Ser Clegane. Why did you mention Lord Baelish among the Lannisters?"

She knew he was not innocent. Plotting to kill Joffery among his other treasons but Sansa recognized the Hound had information she did not. 

He smiled. He knew she did not know as well.

"Littlefinger betrayed him the first chance he got, earned him his favor with the Lannisters and an old castle with it."

Sansa did not understand. Arranging the Tyrell alliance was what had earned him Harrenhall. She was in Court that day. It was the day her betrothal to Joffery was broken and she was set aside for Margery Tyrell. She had thought Littlefinger had done this to break her betrothal to Joffery that it had been part of his plan when he had set eyes on her. When did he betray her father?

"He was awarded Harrenhall for forging the alliance between the Crown and House Tyrell. I was at Court that day."

Sansa remained collected. What had he meant? She searched her memory but nothing of Petyr betraying her Father came to mind.

The Hound laughed. Mocking her almost.

"Aye Little Bird. Littlefinger did not betray your father that day. He won favor with the Lannisters the day he put a dagger to your Fathers throat and had him arrested."

Sansa stayed calm.

Tell us more of this betrayal.

The Hound almost rolled his eyes.

"Ned came to Joffery and Cersei in the Red Keep. He had a letter with him from the King still sealed."

Sansa steadied her breathing.

"Lord Stark thought that Janos Slynt from the City Watch, a few Stark guardsmen and Littlefinger were his allies against the Little Cunt and the Queen."

Sansa saw Jon form a fist in his hand with the mention of Janos Slynt. She knew Jon had taken his head at the Wall.

"When he revealed the King meant to name him Lord Protector everyone came to arms. Ned with the City Watch and the Stark men but Cersei had already seen to them. They turned their swords on your Father instead and it was Littlefinger holding a dagger to his throat."

She looked at Jon. 

"I know that dagger."


	23. Jamie

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chapter added 12/2/16

Cersei the Cruel.

Cersei the Mad Queen.

She came to him at night. She was well in her cups as was her practice complaining of his lack of action. 

This night she was wearing Tommen's crown, one of gold and crusted with rubies and black diamonds. Jamie had always thought the crown too big for the young King Tommen, but Cersei, always thought he would grow into it. 

How Jamie wished he had. Their son. Their last son. Had their Lord Father been alive he would have grown into it and the realm would have found peace once again with Tommen upon the throne and Tywin as Hand. Of all the Kings and pretenders that have sprouted up since in Jamie's lifetime Jamie thought none of them would have been half as good at actually ruling as his Lord Father. A warrior and leader on the battlefield are fine qualities for a King but how will these commanders fair when they grow bored upon their thrones, when the realm needs to be ruled not conquered? Cersei would have to wait to learn that lesson. 

"Sweet Sister, do you take the crown off to sleep?" Jamie mocked her, wearing the crown in the privacy of his chamber, what purpose did that serve. Even Joffery had sense enough to take off the crown and he was but a silly boy king.

She ignored him and handed him a scroll.

"Aunt Genna."

Jamie read the scroll. Cersei gave him time to make the words.

"The Freys have fallen once more and the Tullys have recaptured Riverrun."

"Yes, brother. I read it too." Cersei spat.

Jamie moved to look upon his map.

"I must - " he started to say as Cersei interrupted.

"We do not have time to deal with the Riverlands once more." she said, almost bored, as she sat upon a chaise. Jamie noticed she took care not spill from her overflowing goblet."

"But it is not the Freys it is Aunt Gen-"

"I bloody know who she is Jamie, she is my Aunt too."

Jamie turned his attention back to his map.

"The Tullys can have her. We are being starved from the Reach and the Ironborn are restless, we must..." 

Jamie could not believe the words he was hearing come from Cersei's mouth. Genna had been a mother to them when their own Lady Mother had died. Lord Tywin did not have a gentle hand when raising them but Aunt Genna was. Jamie remembered Cersei slept with their Aunt after their mother had died, sneaking away into her chambers so their Lord Father did not think her weak. How Genna had been their for Cersei when she was to be betrothed to Rhaegar and then when the Mad King declined Tywin's offer Cersei stole away to Genna's chamber again, and finally when she was told by her father she was to wed Robert Baratheon it was Genna had come to Cersei's side. 

Cersei was still speaking. Babbling on of her plans.

"Enough." Jamie said as he saw Cersei cut her eyes to him.

"I will travel the Rose Road and take Highgarden with the aid of the Tarlys. They are starving Kings Landing with their blockade and it must be done regardless. Then I will make for Casterly Rock and take the Lion Forces to Riverrun and ransom Aunt Genna."

Cersei made to speak.

"I will not let them kill Aunt -"

"I do not care if she dies!" Cersei spat.

Jamie stood.

"We need the Rose Road open for food supplies. The Tarlys have written they mean to align with the crown, I must do this.

Jamie meant to hurt her so he pressed - "I haven't seen your betrothed offering any help."

His insult had worked. Cersei placed her goblet down and rose to meet him. Jamie noticed it was now empty.

"Soon enough the Greyjoys will get their turn and when they return victorious over Dorne and the Dragon Queen to the city they will meet their own deaths. Qyburn will see to that."

Jamie looked down. Qyburn and Euron meant to act when the Daenerys and her Dragons were North. His birds in Dorne had said in just a few moons time would be their opportunity to avoid dragon fire. Jamie was to stay in the city to protect it should the Iron Fleet fall or the Dragons return. They had prepared the Scorpion Arrows and built great crossbows that might take down a dragon should they attack Kings Landing it would be their only chance. 

"You have a second rate maester as your Commander now? 

Well Sister it seems you do not have much need of me, I readied your city now he can hold it."

Cersei came up to him and grabbed a handful of his tunic. Jamie would have laughed at this show a year ago but now he only met her eyes, so full with hate and mistrust, even for him, her own twin. He waited to hear what cruel words she would find for him this night.

"I needed you when Tommen died and where were you brother?"

Jamie knew she would use that. It hurt the most.

But this night she added to her harsh slight -

"With you Sapphire Beauty I am told. Well I have learned to survive without you."

Cersei knew. She must have always known, he thought. She had known since Joffery's wedding he loved another. 

Brienne was everything Cersei was not. Brienne was not a beauty and the name was given to her in a cruel jest. Where Cersei was a strikingly beautiful woman,with golden hair,emerald green eyes,fair of skin, and had a slender, graceful figure she was harsh and cruel now, impatient and power hungry. Brienne was none of that. She was tall, muscular, flat-chested and ungainly, with straw-colored hair and broad, coarse features that are covered in freckles and Jamie thought she must weigh more than him as well. Brienne was awkward where Cersei was calculating. She yearned for respect and acceptance from others - Renly, Lady Catelyn, Jamie even - and easily gives her love and loyalty to those few. Jamie hoped he was still among those she loved.

Cersei let go of his shirt and began to smooth it. Instantly changing her demeanor. Recognizing her taunt had been effective. 

She truly is mad Jamie thought.

"Sack Highgarden and free Genna."

Jamie raised an eyebrow.

"But you will not return here. Remain at Casterly Rock, Brother. 

That is an order from your Queen."

Jamie let out a breath as she exited his chamber.

He would leave tonight.


	24. Sam

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam meets someone else.
> 
> Sam gets ready to leave Old Town.

Maester Alleras had earned the links of his chain in six months. 

If Sam could earn his silver chain on the morrow he would have done it in five. A great feat but Sam had known much of the information before arriving in Oldtown. 

He had spent his whole life in libraries and had no time for the foolishness displayed by the other apprentices more oft than not. Jon needed Sam to find answers and he had been diligent in his studies.

Gilly hardly was a distraction. He thought her more of an aid than anything really. She had taken to cleaning at the Inn Sam arranged for them to stay at. Didn't pay more than supper every night but the Innkeep treated Gilly well and let Little Sam play with his children while Gilly worked.

Sam poured over books near every night. He burned candles all night looking up anything that might be useful to Jon. He had learned much about Valyrian Steel and the young smith was right. There wasn't much of it left. There was a trick or magic in the forging that Sam had yet to discover.

The name Valyrian Steel was invented in Valyria, and was used to make weapons and various other items of unparalleled quality. Magic and spells play a role in its forging, which makes the steel special and rare...priceless, Sam thought as his eyes wondered to Heartsbane that was tucked away in cloth near the bedside.

Valyrian steel blades are lighter, stronger, and sharper than even the best castle-forged steel. He knew that long ago before Jon ever killed a White Walker with the blade.

Most blades feature distinctive rippled patterns, the mark of steel that has been folded back on itself many thousands of times. Gendry had confirmed that technique when reworking the blade Tywin had brought them. Sam pieced that information together himself. House Lannister coming into a large sword just after the death of Lord Eddard Stark in Kings Landing.

The twin Lannister blades and dagger were once Ice. The Stark family blade. Mayhaps Jon would find the blades again and remake Ice. Mayhaps they were gone in the Sept of Baelor - Sam was sure Valyrian Steel had not had the occasion to put through a wildfire explosion. At least he had not read of it.

There may be thousands of Valyrian steel blades remaining in the world, but in Westeros there are only 227 such weapons according to Archmaester Thurgood's Inventories, some of which have since been lost or have disappeared from recorded history like Dark Sister away with Brynden Rivers the Bloodraven and Blackfyre the other Targaryen blade that left with bastard Daemon Targaryen. 

Most Valyrian steel blades in Westeros are treasured heirlooms of noble houses, like his, each with its own name and storied history, and even impoverished lesser houses are unwilling to give them up like Red Rain of House Drumm and Lady Forlorn of House Corbray. Even House Mormont had come into possession of Long Claw when House Arryn the Warden the East could not even claim a single blade of its own.

Sam knew his Father treasured his family's blade, Heartsbane of Hollow Hill, and part of him wanted to believe that his Father had not marched for him in Oldtown because he wanted Sam to possess the blade should he need it when Winter came. More likely, though, Sam's father could not march for him for it would be admitting he had lost his most prized possession. 

Nonetheless Sam had it and he would leave as soon as he received his silver link with the blade for Jon and Winterfell. One more blade and mayhaps a smithy that can do something with it, he thought.

Sam looked at his book he had brought home on this night. This one was on Valyria. 

Gilly poured Sam water and looked at the pages. This one had a few pictures so Sam knew her inability to read would not hinder her curiosity.

The picture was of topless towers of the cityscape and the sphinxes that decorated the grounds. A magnificent city far greater and advanced than Kings Landing had ever hoped to be, Sam thought.

"Where's this?" Gilly asked. 

"It gone." he said.

Gilly was confused. Oldtown was a spectacle to her. She had lived her whole life in Craster's Keep. The Wall, Horn Hill, Old Town had all amazed Gilly, Sam thought, why shouldn't Valyria.

Sam thumbed though the pages to the next drawing. This one had a dragon lord flying about the city.

"A dragon?"

Sam was surprised she knew of dragons. He supposed even beyond the Wall the legend of the Targaryen dragon riders was known, even though no dragon had lived since the reign of King Aegon III.

"Yes." Sam said.

"You see It is a long-dead city of wonderment, and was once the capital of a great empire called the Valyrian Freehold. Two ruling dragon-lord families often fought for power there but in the end the Doom came for them all."

"But what about the Targaryen Dragon Kings south of the Wall?"

Gilly had been learning too, Sam thought. A wildling that knew of the Targaryens.

"Twelve years before the Doom, A Targaryen maid, Daenys the Dreamer, had a powerful prophetic dream along with visions that Valyria would be destroyed. Foreseeing the Doom she convinced her father to leave Valyria before the cataclysm. Heeding the warning of his daughter the Lord set sail, moving his entire family and their five dragons to the island Dragonstone. "

Gilly looked at the pages again.

"What does it look like now?"

"Nothing" Sam said. "After the Doom it is dangerous to go even today. The event has lingered over the Valyrian ruins for years and all the secrets and magic that was known in Valyria is long gone."

Gilly looked down at the pages.

She looked at a different page with different dragons. This time fire was coming from the mouth of a dragon.

"Do you think a dragon's fire is hotter than regular fire Sam?"

Sam did not know. 

Sam thought of Gendry and how he had said to forge the Valyrian Steel his master had made the hottest fire he had ever had for Gendry had been the one to stoke the flames whilst his master reworked the blades over and over bending and reforging Ice.

He wish he knew.

 

 

xxxxxxx

 

Sam had not studied much for his test today at the Citadel. 

It would be his last link.

If truth be told it was the most practical. It was his silver link, for medicine and healing. 

The black iron link came quickly for ravenry. Sam had learned those lessons from Maester Aemon. Being blind proved harder on the old Maester when in came to practical tasks like tending the ravens.

The yellow gold link came just as quick to Sam. Economics. Coin. Sam had oft balanced his Father's ledgers at Horn Hill. His father was a great war commander but taxes and land ownership could be just as difficult to maneuver as a positions on a battlefield. Sam had once thought he would make a great Master of Coin should he ever find favor with the King or High Council.

The copper link for history was easy enough. He was educated as any Lordling would be at Horn Hill and his predisposition to books oft had him in the libraries reading of the Targaryen Conquests and History of Dorne so when the exam on history came he hardly studied for it as well.

The Iron link for warcraft was challenging but his time at the Wall and friendship with Jon, spending late hours discussing possible defenses against the Wildlings had proven to be useful during his exam.

Today he would obtain his last link. For now at least. Time did not allow him to acquire more. 

He approached Archmaester Ebrose's study slowly. He was reciting in his head the tonics and draughts he had learned that might appear on his exam. Sam did not know what to expect so he had simply learned everything in the books that were prescribed by Ebrose.

Sam thought Archmaester Ebrose was a kind professor. His art of healing was the most necessary skill for a master and it was good that the novices had a patient professor sharing his craft with them.

Sam heard from the hall voices. He had not expected anyone other than he to take the exam today.

When finally reached the study Ebrose was examining a man he had not seen before.

He was a large middle-aged man, swarthy and very hairy. He is balding, but still strong and fit an aging Knight mayhaps. Something looked vaguely familiar to Sam though.

As Sam approached he realized his arm and shoulder were covered in greyscale.

The Knight spoke.

"I'd offer you my hand but I don't think you want me to be polite."

Sam gave a wary smile.

Archemaester Ebrose had several elixirs and herbs about his desk and what appeared to be nearly everything from his stores scattered among papers and books on the subject of the Grey Plague.

"My name is Jorah Mormont." The knight said, as his grey arm went into the air with a wave.... and Sam realized he was Lord Commander Mormont's son and his exam.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for the comments on last chapter.
> 
> Really working to bring things together soon now that I've put all the characters in play. 
> 
> Let me know what you think. Jon chapter next and then a Dorne and back to Jon then Sam....and then we have our first big meet up with Dany/Tyrion/Jon/Sansa.
> 
> Stay tuned.


	25. Jon

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some Jonsa things.
> 
> Some dreams.
> 
> Will edit on my lunch break tomorrow.
> 
> Will add a quick Dorne chapter and bring it back to Wintefell by the weekend.

Jon looked down at the sword in his hands. He was keeping busy in the yards sharpening the inventory his men had salvaged in the Battle for Winterfell. The Battle of the Bastards he had heard it called. The task gave Jon time to think to remember.

“Jon?”

The call came from behind him, softer than a whisper, but strong too. Can a shout be silent? He turned his head, searching for his brother, for a glimpse of a lean grey shape moving beneath the trees, but there was nothing, only…

A weirwood.

It seemed to sprout from solid rock, its pale roots twisting up from a myriad of fissures and hairline cracks. The tree was slender compared to other weirwoods he had seen, no more than a sapling, yet it was growing as he watched, its limbs thickening as they reached for the sky. Wary, he circled the smooth white trunk until he came to the face. Red eyes looked at him. Fierce eyes they were, yet glad to see him. The weirwood had his brother’s face. Had his brother always had three eyes?

“Not always,” came the silent shout. “Not before the crow.”

 

Jon remembered that day. He thought he had gone mad. When he looked upon Bran now he had known it was always him. It was always Bran among the Weirwoods and in his dreams. The whispers in the winds. Bran helped him understand the things he had seen and the eyes he could see through. How to see through Ghost, how easy it was to slip in and out of the wolf. It surprised Jon how quickly he mastered skin changing but mayhaps a part of him always knew it was in him. 

Sansa had told him of her dreams as well. Her dreams were just as vivid and real as his but as she described them it sometimes scared Jon to think of the things that haunted Sansa at night. It pained Jon not to be able to protect her from her thoughts and memories. She had told him of her dreams of Ser Illyn. One night before Sansa had taken to sleeping with Jon he had heard her screams. Everyone had heard her screams. He went to her bedside and roused her from her nightmare and she told him of the terrors that came for her at night. 

She dreamt of Father she said, "the gold cloaks fling him down, saw Ser Ilyn striding forward, unsheathing Ice from the scabbard on his back, saw the moment . . . the moment when . . . she had wanted to look away she said. Her dreams did not let her, her dreams made her relive the day and tears ran down her cheeks.

She said her legs had gone out from under her and she had fallen to her knees, yet somehow she could not turn her head, and all the people were screaming and shouting, and her prince had smiled at her, he’d smiled and she’d felt safe, but only for a heartbeat, until he said those words, and her father’s legs . . . she could hardly breathe when she relived her memory for Jon. "his legs, the way they’d jerked when Ser Ilyn . . . when the sword." 

She buried herself into Jon's shoulder. Jon stilled her as she sobbed in his arms until she fell asleep again growing wary from crying has hard as she had. He did not sleep that night he only held her.

Where Jon could not protect her from her dreams Bran could. She like Jon knew Bran was changed. When they left Bran was still the boy climbing the walls of the keep and trying to best Arya at swordplay. His fall changed him. His time with the Reeds and beyond the Wall changed him.

He helped her direct her dreams. To dream in the eyes of birds in Winterfell and sometimes she even dreamt she was a She-Wolf in the Riverlands. Wild running about the Tully lands she said.

Jon was happy to hear that.

He looked upon the inventory of blades again. None of the swords had proven to be anything special. If he was hoping to find Valyrian Steel among the spoils he was a fool. Not even castle forged steel could be found in this store but steel was steel and if he would be arming men he needed to see what shape the blades were in himself. To know what he was sending into battle.

He was happy to have the task, truth be told. Repairs to Winterfell were coming along which was mostly Sansa's doing. He bid men to expedite the repairs. He wished to erase any memory of the Boltons but even more for Sansa's sake.

He caught glances of her across the yard on this day. The courtyard was rather empty as most men were in the barracks or seeing to repairs to a tower on the Southside of the keep. She was with Brienne and they were bidding Pod and two other men to see to removing a roof that had fire damage. Sansa climbed the latter after Pod and herself was upon the roof pulling the scorched debris away. She was steady where Pod was uneasy. That brought a small smile to Jon.

Jon picked up the next blade and examined the hilt and markings. A large bastard blade but poorly forged. He tossed it into a pile for reworking should he find a proper Blacksmith to aid in preparing for the march. He needed skilled laborers not Ladies and Squires seeing to Winterfell. He wished Winterfell be rebuilt as it was when his Father was Warden.

His Uncle .... he thought.... not his father.....with that he kicked several blades that lay in the snow selecting the next one to examine.

He looked around at Winterfell once more. Still charred and damaged no matter how fast his men moved.

He had wished for this he thought. When Stannis offered it to him, his Father's title and lands he had considered it. To be legitimate if he swore to Stannis but he had remembered his vows. To take his father's castle he would have had to forsake his father's gods. Stannis had huffed with that. Saying he was a true Stark for all remembering his honor.

He looked up at Sansa again. She was off the ladder now with Brienne safely on the ground while Pod was finishing the task. Jon thought of how so much had changed. When they left Winterfell she was the Southron Lady destined to be a Queen and he the bastard. While he climbed to the rank of Lord Commander Sansa had been set aside in the South by her betrothed and disinherited by Robb when she married the Imp. When Stannis was offering Jon Winterfell, Baelish had been parading her around the Eryie as his bastard Allayne and then sold her to her enemy. Now they were finally on equal foot. Ruling Winterfell together. She was his heir he supposed. Princess Sansa or some title of the sort. He'd have her a Queen if he could and with what he faced she might succeed him sooner than he would like. An army of ten thousand Northmen and poorly armored wildlings would be no match against the army of the Undead. Jon sighed as he sorted the next blade.

 

Sansa was making her way to him now. She wore a simple gown, one of brown wool. Jon noticed she had stitched the Stark sigil about the neck. It was a white direwolf, his sigil not hers. Sansa could never wear a plain gown. Or mayhaps nothing would ever be plain on Sansa, he thought.

Her hair was in two braids that met in the back and laid about her shoulders loose and messy. Jon oft found his hands smoothing the stray auburn hairs back into place. An excuse to be close to her mayhaps. She had not seemed to mind his touches. Or when they parted he had taken to placing a kiss upon her forehead. He did not know why but he had. She did not mind that either he thought and it seemed as though she had come to expect it.

When other men made to be close to Sansa she still shied away. The abuse from Joffery and then Ramsay had scarred her both physically and mentally. He didn't know the scars beneath her shift but he knew the Maester still tended them. He remembered Sansa's dreams again and how she would call out in her dreams for Father or Robb to save her, sometimes she begged, sometimes she had cried. He heard his name sometimes too calling to save her and when he made to wake her she sometimes tried to flee until she realized it was not a Bolton in her bed but her brother instead. Cousin. He thought.

 

Whatever pain she felt in her dreams and whatever wounds still pained her she did not show when she was about in Winterfell. She was ice. Steel. Cold like Lord Eddard had been. The North loved her for her perseverance and while she may have once favored the Southron ways she was all North now as she made her way to him.

Jon realized his breath was heavy as he looked upon her. His heart raced as it had when they were in the crypts and then again when she was so close to him under the Targaryen cloak only a few moons ago.

Brienne's watchful gaze followed her across the yards but as she reached Jon Brinenne moved her focus back to Podrick, still uneasy atop the roof.

"I can see you sulking from across the yards...Your Highness." She mocked.

Jon gave a small smile.

"Why Princess Sansa, I am your King, I believe you must address me as Your Majesty." He met her jape.

She lowered her voice. 

"But cousin, a Prince holds the title of Your Highness, and I believe you are the son of -"

Jon stepped to her quickly in embarrassment and his hand moved to her lips to hush her.

His face grew hot from embarrassment as he looked around. No eyes were upon them. Brienne and Pod were still tending the debris pile and the men training with Tormund would be on their backs if they paid attention to anything other than their training. Besides they were well out of plain view in the pile of salvage from the battle. Sansa knew that though when she spoke. Sansa would not have been so careless to speak the words where anyone could hear. He should have known that. She was careful as always.

He removed his gentle press from her lips and she gave a smile.

"If it suits Your Highness, Lord Brandon and Lady Meera will join us in the Hall for dinner. It will be a celebration announcing his return."

She stepped closer to him. She knew he was still embarrassed and she was playing with him he thought.

She lowered her voice. "Do wear something nice cousin, I should like to see what a Targaryen prince wears to a feast." she mocked him again and again Jon stood dumbfounded at her teasing him.

She smiled at him and this time it was Sansa the marked their parting with a kiss. Not on his forehead though and not on his cheek.

Gently her lips pressed to his own and just as his heart sank she withdrew and ever so cooly walked away. His mouth still agape with shock he looked about the yard. Nobody had seen and he himself wondered if it even happened. 

As she walked towards Brienne and Pod across the yard Sansa looked back at him. She gave him a sly smile and he knew it had.


	26. Sansa

"Everyone wants something, Alayne. And when you know what a man wants you know who he is, and how to move him."

Petyr had told her that. When she was his bastard daughter in the Eyrie. Now she knew what he wanted and would deal with him later. The information the Hound had brought to her was fresh in her mind. 

Sansa walked in the warmth of the glass gardens. Even though much of the roof was broken and exposed the warmth from the hot springs kept the gardens much hotter than she was used to. She had taken her cloak off and was tending to some vegetables in an area that had survived Ramsay's sack. The green and yellow panes of the glass gardens were all in shards, the trees and fruits and flowers torn up or left exposed to die but a small area of the gardens still yielded a fair amount of vegetables and Sansa meant to see it supplement for the feast this evening.

Brienne was in the gardens as well. Sweating and cleaning the shards of glass, not knowing how else to be of use. 

Sansa restored a small raised bed of vegetables and did what she could for several trees that didn't look promising. Several lemon trees Sansa would have liked to see survived looked as if they would need the magic of Melisandre if they hoped to make it to spring. 

Sansa was in her thoughts again. She thought of her lessons.

"It doesn’t matter what we want, once we get it, then we want something else." Littlefinger had taught her that when he had discovered the Tyrells plan to marry her off to Loras or Willas Tyrell. Might she be in Highgarden if Petyr had not blocked Olenna's plans? Loras, Sansa had learned, would not have proven to be a good match in the end but surely she would rather be untouched in the bedchamber than endure what she had in Ramsay's.  
Sansa realized she had tilled too much soil as she thought of Ramsay again.

Sansa thought of her lessons and thought of Jon. Jon was like their father, she knew what he wanted. It was what she wanted. She wanted to be home at Wintefell. Safe. She would always want that and after what Jon had been through she knew he would as well. They only wanted what they had once had. To be safe amongst their family in their home.

Safe from the North and what Jon had battled beyond the wall. 

Safe from the South and the Game of Thrones that she was being forced to play.

They wanted their home back and returned to its former glory. When Lord Eddard was Warden of the North and ruled justly and fairly. When the North respected House Stark and Winterfell was the most glorious and formidable castle in the North. That is what she wished for and she thought Jon wished for it as well.

Sansa looked dolefully at the glass on the ground that Brienne had placed into a large pile with the rest of Ramsay's debris.

Sansa put two baskets of root vegetables aside as she began to fill the third, trying to put Ramsay out of her mind.

Jon had promised to keep Sansa safe. Before marching into battle against Ramsay he had promised her that, he had kept that promise. 

Sansa looked up out of the broken windows of the glass gardens to the Godswood. The ancient godswood has stood untouched for 10,000 years, with three acres of old packed earth and close together trees creating a dense canopy, which the castle was raised around. At the center of the grove stands an ancient weirwood with a face carved into it, standing over a pool of black water. Ramsay had not burned the Godswood at least. If he had mayhaps the Children of the Forest and the Old Gods would have come for him themselves. 

Through the trees she saw Jon was at the Weirwood. 

Sansa stood up and brushed the dirt from her skirts and wiped her hands upon her apron.

Brienne moved to follow but Sansa did not wish for company other than Jon's.

"Lady Brienne can you see these vegetables to the kitchens for the feast?"

Brienne nodded.

"I shall meet you back in our chamber"

With a sly smile Sansa continued, "I have sewn a dress for you."

Brienne nodded again. This time most uncomfortably.

"Yes, Lady Sansa."

The lady knight picked up all four large baskets of vegetables and made for the kitchens and as she left Sansa let out a small giggle at her knights expense.

Alone now, Sansa looked on at Jon quietly. He was sitting at the Weirwood just as her father used to. He was sharpening Longclaw just as her Lord Father sharpened Ice. Deep in thought. Quiet and sullen. 

Sansa knew now the secrets her father kept. From her mother. From his children. From Jon. From his King. From the realm.

She and Jon bore the burden of that secret now. For now, she thought.

Jon saw Sansa as she made to approach. He smiled a genuine smile. When she had seen him earlier this morning she had teased him with a kiss. From the smile she knew he did not mind it.

Sansa hated how easy Jon was to charm. She had that lesson from Petyr too. When she was Alayne Stone and was in the Eryie she had been made to be Petyr's daughter and he bid her to charm Harry Hardyngg in hopes the Lords of the Vale may find favor with their new Lord Protector and offer their Heir to marry his bastard.

But Harry was not Jon. He was not so honorable and had gotten bastards on other girls in the Vale. Alayne was just another girl to him and Sansa did not know how to win him over.

But Petyr came to her, instructed her how to win over Harry the Heir. "He has a weakness for a pretty face, and whose face is prettier than yours? Charm him. Entrance him. Bewitch him.”

“I don’t know how,” Sansa had said to him, not knowing her potential.

“Oh, I think you do,” said Littlefinger.

She did. The night was hers and so was Harry by the end. Until Littlefinger wagered that selling Sansa to the Boltons would provide the maneuvering he needed both in the Vale and with Cersei. 

Petyr may have thought that coming to her rescue would win her over as well. That was a miscalculation. Perhaps he had given her too many lessons.

Sansa brought her thoughts back to Jon now. 

She had charmed him. Not in a way that Petyr would have bid her to do. Not for political maneuverings. Sansa had charmed him because she liked it. She wanted him to like her and even more so since she learned he was her cousin.

But mayhaps it was he that had charmed her, she thought. She found herself seeking him out as she was doing right now and found her thoughts wandering to him.

His promises of protection and his seeking her counsel and opinion had won her over. It was not convenient and certainly did not help that they both should be married off to secure their alliances.

Cersei had told her never to fall in love. "That love made you weak. The more people you love, the weaker you are. You’ll do things for them that you know you shouldn’t do. You’ll act the fool to make them happy, to keep them safe. Love no one but your children." the Queen had said to her. Sansa knew she was right. But Sansa could not help it. She loved Jon.

She loved Jon. Sansa met her own thought with disbelief.

Sansa composed herself and didn't wish to think of Cersei or her feelings any longer as she finally stood before Jon. She had come to discuss the feast this evening not her feelings.

Jon kissed her hand and bowed.

"Princess Sansa" he mocked.

Sansa gave a curtsey. She had been too in her thoughts in the glass gardens and it must have shown on her face because Jon thought to lighten the mood with a jape.

Jon's hand held hers and he looked upon her dirty skirts and fingernails.

"A princess playing in the dirt?"

Sansa smiled.

"I was in the glass gardens"

She bid Jon to look on at the collapsed gardens. As he did his head fell with a bit of lament.

Jon placed Longclaw onto the ground. He removed his cloak and bid Sansa to sit on it.

"S'pose you're dirtier than the ground but would you like to sit....My Lady?"

Sansa smiled and sat and Jon joined her. Still holding her dirty hand.

He leaned to her and raised her hand within his to point to the Broken Tower on the North side of Winterfell.

"You see, the Burned Tower, was once the tallest watchtower in Winterfell. Over 140 years ago a lightning strike set it afire and the top third collapsed inward, but no one bothered to rebuild it. Not even Father."

Sansa knew the tower well. Bran had fallen from that tower and she had climbed it herself to send light to Brienne for rescue. Even though Brienne did not come.

"When I return from the North I will send the Manderly fleet to Myr and have the green and yellow glasses brought in on ships. Panes so large and beautiful you will think the gardens we grew up with were simple."

Sansa smiled.

"Then I'll have Ryon Forrester bring great planks of their Ironwood trees from the Wolfswood Forest and we will rebuild the Burned Tower and the tallest tower in Winterfell will be the strongest once more."

Sansa laughed as Jon began making his great plans and Jon smiled as well.

Jon lowered his voice and leaned into her closer.

"You see, Sansa, Winterfell will be better than before."

His eyes locked to hers.

"Our children will play and never know that the glass gardens were broken or that the Iron Tower was once called the Burned Tower."

\---"Our children?" Sansa said with a raised eyebrow.

Sansa's heartbeat a little faster.

Jon stood and sheathed Longclaw. 

He held his hand to Sansa and raised her easily from the ground bringing her face to face with him.

He pulled her small dirty hand up and pressed his lips to her hand once more.

"Yes. Our children." he said again as he locked eyes with her.

He smiled again and picked his cloak off the ground.

"And Bran's and Tormund's, and any other Northern child."

He raised an eyebrow much to Sansa's surprise and locked his gray eyes upon her again. 

"But, My Cousin, I believe we have a feast to prepare for?"

Sansa took him by the arm. "Yes, cousin. We do."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wanted to do a small series of JONSA and Wintefell Chapters before I do one last Tyrion chapter and an Arya and have Dany/Tyrion meet.
> 
> I'll try to pop off the Winterfell chapters this week.
> 
> Let me know what you think and what characters you want to see more of.
> 
> Enjoy.


	27. Jon

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> will edit tomorrow.

The chamber was quiet. Sansa was usually in here in the evenings reviewing scrolls that arrived by raven and speaking of their daily itinerary. His personal consul. 

She was with Meera and Brienne in her old room now. It was where her clothes were stored and Jon had heard Davos mention bringing in another feather bed to that chamber yesterday. Surely he meant to be helpful but Jon had grown used to Sansa in his chamber ..... and in his bed. He wondered where she would sleep on this night.

He pulled a tunic from his trunk. Perhaps it was Robb's once. Sansa would recognize it if it was. He paired it with his own leather jerkin that Sansa had made for him. She had always been skilled with embroidery and now it was put to practical use. She made all their clothes and stitched Bran new items as well. What they found of old clothes in stores they repurposed and distributed. Tormund took a liking to some of Theon's finer pieces. He wore the tight tunics with such confidence that Jon could not even laugh as the wildling suited himself in the capes and chains worn in most unfamiliar ways. Davos had tried to help him once but he scoffed at the Onion Knight when he tried to show him that wearing one chain at a time to secure a cloak was enough as Tormund had worn three of Theon's chains at once. 

"Therrrr Mine Onion Knight and I like the way the clank together." as if it was the obvious way it should be worn.

Jon looked at himself in a mirror. He secured his fine cloak with fur lining about the neck with a simple chain. 

If he had hoped to look the part of a Targaryen Prince at Sansa's bidding he had failed. He looked like Lord Eddard or Uncle Benjen mayhaps. He looked Stark.

Jon made his way to Bran's chamber.

He found him dressed with Davos and Meera as company.

"So little brother, are you ready to accept your place as head of House Stark?" He offered Bran a smile that was not returned.

Bran looked at Meera.

"For now." he said. His tone was so serious, so knowing.

Jon didn't know what he had meant. "You know nothing Jon Snow" echoed in his head.

With ease Jon picked up his brother and took him to the Hall.

He was not light. Jon remembered Lord Tyrion and his plans for a horse to be broken to Bran's condition so he might ride again. Jon would see to that again. 

As he placed him in the Lord's chair Bran looked as he belonged. A proper Lord. He sat tall in the chair and reminded Jon of Robb. When he sat next to him Jon looked upon his tunic that had been embroidered. He recognized it too was Sansa's doing. The Stark Wolf Sigil in black upon a green tunic. House Reed's colors.

Men arrived into the halls and serving girls filled their cups. Many not recognizing Bran and were making introductions out of curiosity or kindness before food was brought into the hall.

Tormund was sitting below at the table with Alys Karstark who had arrived only a day prior. Jon noted he had attempted to comb his hair tonight. Alys had been shy and nervous in Winterfell. After the proposition of marriage to Tormund was made Jon gave Alys leave to think over her decision. Sansa had gone to the Lady in her guests chamber to offer counsel. It was Sansa who truly persuaded Alys to take the Wildling as a husband. Sansa had told her of her marriages for duty and family and that while Tormund seemed to be wild he was actually kind and honorable. She agreed at Sansa's bidding not wanting to lose her family's seat and wanting to join ranks in the North and have House Karstark take their place alongside the Starks once more. What surprised Jon the most was how quickly Lady Karstark warmed to the Wildling. She made every effort to be with the Wildling as his duties allowed. Tormund as well seemed to be quite pleased with the match as well, surely her fire-kissed hair agreed with him. Jon looked on with surprise at his Wildling brother, where Tormund could usually be heard from across the hall he now spoke quietly, almost in tender whisper to his betrothed. Jon thought he was gentle with her almost.

Jon's eyes moved to the Hall entrance.

It was hard to miss the Lady Knight of Tarth. Even if she was disguised in a dress on this evening. Jon knew that must have been Sansa's doing. Brienne was tall and had a strong build to be sure but the blue dress Brienne wore in this evening earned her name the Brienne the Beauty. Jon smiled at her even though she wore the dress with disdain. She feigned a smile at Jon out of courtesy. Brienne led Sansa into the room. It was even harder to miss Sansa. Jon took a heavy breath as his eyes fell upon her. She wore black. Her hair was long and down and the auburn locks flowed down about her figure. Her dress was finer than the ones she wore during the days in the yards and in the kitchens. It's sleeves were long but the neck was cut low. She wore a necklace that was black in color and the two thick chains met in the middle about a circular locket. It directed the attention to her chest. She played with the locket as she sat next to him at the dais. Jon had to force his gaze elsewhere to meet her eye. 

Lady Brienne sat next to Sansa and Jon saw the Brienne look upon Tormund and Lady Karstark. Jon knew she had been indifferent to the Wildling's affections but was assured by Sansa Brienne would never make a match with Tormund. Sansa had whispered to Jon once that her heart belonged elsewhere. Jon wondered who had the Lady Brienne's heart. He did not know. 

Lord Beric Dondarrion sat among the group he had called the Brotherhood Without Banners. He was betrothed to the Lady Allyria of House Dayne in the South. Beside him sat his squire Edric Dayne, Lady Allyria's nephew and head of House Dayne and Lord of Starfall. House Dayne boasted history's best swordsmen and the title "Sword of the Morning" was given to any Dayne of Starfall worthy of their ancestral Sword, Dawn. Jon noticed Edric did not have the sword in his possession during his arrival but he thought the squire a bit young to lay claim to that title. He had proven his swordsmanship in the yards though and may claim the sword yet. He even provided a challenging melee for Brienne once who Jon had come to know as his best rival in the yards. Tormund knew wildling tricks but Brienne had been properly trained by a master at arms as he had. Her height proved an advantage but Jon was quicker than she. 

Sansa sat upright next to him and placed her hand on his to call his attention. She lingered and Jon noticed her dress had red thread at the sleeve on her side. Black and Red. House Targaryen colors. Sansa's teasing again he thought.

He gave her a sideways glance and she gave a coy smile.

"I'm glad to see you washed your hands since I last saw you, Princess."

Sansa cut her eyes at Jon.

"Your Highness." She mocked him once more. "Do you wish to make the announcement or should I?"

Jon made for his goblet and stood in answer.

"Gentlemen! Ladies! .... and Tormund" Jon japed. The hall roared with laughter most from the Freefolk. Jon even caught a small smile from Alys Karstark with that.

"It is with great excitement that we welcome Brandon Stark home to Winterfell as he claims our family's seat as Lord Stark and head of his house."

The hall was loud and everyone raised the drinks. Jon looked at Bran and Meera who seemed quite pleased at the warm welcome. He looked at Sansa who looked on their brother as well. She smiled as her eyes met Jon's.

Jon paused and bid the hall to silence with his hand and a smile.

"We raise our cups, to Lady Meera of Greywater Watch who protected our Brother during his travels beyond the wall."

He extended his goblet in the air.

"To Brandon the Wanderer, Head of House Stark and Prince of Winterfell!"

Laughter and cheers erupted in the hall and with that he drank his ale.

Chants of "Brandon the Wanderer" and "Bran Beyond the Wall" were shouted and only were quieted when food and ale was brought into the hall.

To Jon's surprise Bran raised his hand to speak. Jon's eyes cut to Sansa.

She was ice. Jon could hardly read what she felt especially in public. She looked on just as he though.

"Thank you for the Welcome Brother. I accept Regency of Winterfell whilst King Jon marches North, but I must make another announcement."

Sansa's lips parted. Jon noted that she was surprised with this announcement.

Regency? Jon thought.... He is meant to be the Stark in Winterfell. He is the rightful Lord and only wishes to act as such in my absence? 

Bran continued "But when the battle is won I mean to wed my betrothed, the Lady Meera of House Reed and leave for her seat at Greywater Watch."

Bran smiled and looked at Meera.

She returned his smile as he reached for her hand.

The Hall cheered again. Singing Praises for the Lady Meera and Brandon the Wanderer. They welcomed the news of a marriage.

Jon could not help but to smile as well.

"For Now" He remembered. For now Bran would be the Stark of Winterfell.

Jon looked on at Sansa that smiled a small smile. 

She was worried about succession. About the Stark line, Jon knew. Bran's marriage to Meera would place the burden of Stark heirs on her once more. 

Jon grabbed her hand and smiled when her icy blue eyes set upon him.

"I hope the future of House Stark will not make you lose your appetite, My lady." as he gave her hand a squeeze.

Sansa smiled.

"We shall speak on it another time, My Prince."

Jon's heart sank again. She should not tease him so openly. Mocking him as a Targaryen Prince.

As the food was brought in and the merriment continued, the free folk were happy to have an excuse to celebrate even if they did not know who Meera or Bran were before this night. Nonetheless Jon was pleased to see his men that had fought beside him against the Boltons and the men who had pledged to Stark could enjoy a proper feast. They deserved this, he thought, before the Lords of the Northern Houses return and before the Dragon Queen arrives they would have this night.

Sansa had ordered a hunting party to provide the food for this evening. They had found success and taken down two elks during their hunt. The stores and Sansa's glass garden harvest were supplement and everyone seemed to be eating their fill. Cups ran over and men cheered and chatted among the tables as they drank. Soon the food was being cleaned away but nobody seemed to want to leave. 

Jon watched on as a rather peculiar fellow the Brotherhood had brought with them started plucking the Woodharp. Soon free folk had moved the tables back and made way for dancing on the Hall floor. Jon raised and eyebrow at Sansa when that began and she took a deep breath.

Sansa had been a great dancer when they were younger. She was expected to know all the dances and steps and her mother had made Robb learn them as well. They would need them when they went to court and find some highborn Lord and Lady to marry. A prince in Sansa's case. Jon was spared the lessons as a bastard, besides no ladies had ever wanted to dance with him when Robb was in the room. Now Jon wondered if Sansa could tolerate the touch of another man. Pod had tried to lift her from the latter this morning and Jon saw her recoil from even the shy squire's touch. Would Sansa allow another man to touch her on this night when she would surely be asked for a dance. Jon thought again, He did not want another man to touch her, truth be told.

Jon leaned to Sansa, "I shall save you from the dances if you wish, Queen Nearys." and smiled.

Sansa raised an eyebrow at him.

"Thank you Dragonknight, but it is you who shall need the rescue." 

Sansa gave a sly smile and Jon followed her eyes and much to his dismay he saw what she meant. 

Maidens were approaching and lining the dais in hopes of dancing with their King.

Jon's smile quickly faded.

Jon rose and gave an uncomfortable smile at the line of maids looking upon him. 

Jon did not wish to dance. To step on the feet of every woman in Winterfell and earn the name of the Clumsy King. 

As Jon looked at the queue at his potential dance partners Jon had a better idea.

He went straight up to her as she sat at the dais. Tall and proud. He offered his hand.

"I'm afraid I am not as fine of a dancer as Lord Renly may have been, but will you do me the honor of having this dance, Lady Brienne?"

Lady Brienne did not look pleased but was courteous nonetheless. 

On the floor several women tried to cut in but Jon turned them down saying he wished to give the Maid of Tarth his dances this night. 

Jon for a moment thought Brienne rather liked hearing him turn other maids away in favor of her.

Brienne was a proper lady and knew the dances and steps well even if she was as clumsy as he was. They stepped on each other's feet often but Brienne and Jon both could tolerate a few bruised toes.

Jon looked over as Davos made his way to the dais and had offered his hand to Sansa. 

She hesitated and looked at Jon and moved to the floor with the Onion Knight.

Tom played many songs that night. He sang many of the usual songs like the "Cask of Ale" which Jon remembered was played for King Robert Baratheon when he came to Winterfell. 

Most of the tunes were upbeat and since the dances of the free folk were much different than the ones that Brienne and Sansa had learned for court nobody cared too much that his steps were out of sorts. 

The night went on and much to Jon's surprise he watched Sansa dance with Lord Edric, Pod, Davos, and finally Tormund for a turn. She moved with grace from partner to partner and if she did mind the touch of men she did not show it on this night. She was cold and reserved but graceful and beautiful as she danced. After Sansa's dance with Podrick he saw Pod make his way to Bran and quietly take him from the dais back to his chamber not to call attention to his condition, Lady Meera followed. 

As Tom played "Winter Maiden" and Jon thought of no better partner than Sansa.

Jon bowed to Brienne and thanked her for her dances and her tolerance of his dancing.

He moved to Sansa who was sipping from a mug of ale. Ladies in the South oft drank wine but he knew Sansa had no taste for the South any longer, or their wines.

She smiled as she approached him. 

"Sister", Jon said for all to hear.

"will you dance with your King before this night is over?" 

"Yes, My King." She mocked him once more loudly in response.

As he drew her close she whispered "I would love to, Cousin."

She downed her ale and Jon suddenly grew nervous, regretting his decision. He would step on her feet and make a fool of himself. Tom would make a song about it surely.

Jon held her hand in his and put his other hand upon her waist. He swallowed and his heart sank.

His heart began to beat faster as he looked into Sansa's eyes. She smiled at him a sly smile making Jon all the more nervous to be on the floor with her.

Much to his surprise, she took mercy on him and she led him in the steps.... although none would know it if they looked upon them. She had a way of holding him that made it look as though he led, but Jon knew it was Sansa that was in control. They moved about the floor properly as if she was dancing with Robb again, every step was perfect.

She drew Jon close and then steadied his hand to stay still, then she drew his hand up and spun herself out. It appeared effortless but Sansa was doing all the work. Jon was her puppet and when she clasped his hand firmly he knew to draw her into him again, all in time with the tune. As he learned her lead his confidence grew and soon he took the command of the dance.

With that Sansa smiled as he pulled her into him and they danced about the floor just as she and Robb used to. They danced for what seemed like an eternity but at the same time the song was not long enough. At the end of the song Jon realized that they were the only pair on the floor and all eyes were upon the King and the Princess. 

Jon bowed to Sansa and kissed her hand once more.

Gods she was beautiful. Too beautiful. It would do him no good to fall in love with her with Winter Coming.

Perhaps it was the ale or perhaps it was the dance. He grew uncomfortable with his thoughts. He wished to kiss her. As she had kissed him in the yards.

She spoke to break the silence "I must retire, Your Highness." She said in a soft whisper.

He looked to Tormund and at the men in the crowd who must have been expecting another dance from him and Sansa for they were much too silent.

Jon spoke, "Play Milady's Supper, If it pleases you Tom!" Jon needed a bawdy song to distract from whatever had happened between him and Sansa on the floor.

Jon looked on as Sansa left the Hall with Brienne. Their eyes met once more as she slipped out the Hall making for her chamber.

He found his mug of ale and began to make his final rounds with the men. 

At the end of "Jenny's Song" Jon raised his tankard a final time and gave the Tormund a pat on the back. 

"I expect to see you all at first light in the yards. But enjoy the Night!"

Many of the men raised their tankards and Tom started plucking the wood harp once more.

Jon left the hall and made for the Lord's Keep. His thoughts ran wild. Of Sansa. Of how it felt when she had kissed him. How he had wanted her lips on his even when he thought she was his sister in the crypts. How relief came over him when he realized that she was his cousin. How the urges to be with her grew every day. That he wished he was the first to kiss her and it was almost to much to resist her on this night in the middle of the Hall amongst all his men.

He passed Sansa and Arya's chamber. Brienne and Sansa would likely be sleeping already. The hour was late. Ghost was in the corridor standing guard as he did every night. Jon gave him a pet and opened his oak door to the Lord's Chamber.

He still did not know if it was Bran or Sansa or himself who's title earned this room but it was late and mayhaps that was a worry for another day.

The embers of the fire had been tended but the room was still dark. The candles were not lit as they would have been had he been reading his scrolls and pouring over his maps as he did every other night. The hour was late and Jon made haste removing his jerkin and tunic and undressed down to his small clothes. 

In the dim light he made for his bed and the warmth of his furs.

When he reached his bed he realized he was not alone.

Sansa rolled to him and her sleepy eyes met his.

"I have been waiting for you, Cousin."


	28. Sansa

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sansa will find a way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: Mentions of Past Abuse
> 
> I was going to do a Bran chapter but I'll give him a chapter when Dany comes North.
> 
> Jonsa ahead.

Sansa undressed in her chamber. 

The fires were lit as were the candles but it was still dim as the hour was late. 

Brienne had been eager to shed her dress for her night clothes. She had changed into her loose tunic and wore mens leggings to sleep in.

Sansa had shed her dress as well and was in a simple gray shift. She pulled her hair back in to two loose braids that met into one in the back. Loose strands were everywhere. She had done it on purpose. Jon had taken to pushing her hair behind her ear and smoothing her braids when her hair began to fall.

Brienne was putting her sword along her bedside and admiring Meera's blade that had been left next to the featherbed sheathed. Brienne's eyes met Sansa's.

Sansa raised an eyebrow.

"Lady Meera is in possession of a Valyrian Steel Blade, just as Jon and I have..."

Sansa looked on at the blade. Wishing she knew how to swing a sword instead of make clothes or tend gardens.

Brienne continued, "It was the sword of a great Targaryen Queen..." 

Much to Brienne's surprise Sansa interrupted her, "Visenya Targaryen?" 

Brienne was taken aback. "Yes My Lady she -"

Sansa interrupted her once more. "She was the sister wife of Aegon the Conqueror."

Sansa looked down, not meeting Brienne's eyes.

"She was a heroine of Arya's"

Sansa looked at the blade again. "Dark Sister."

Sansa smiled as her thoughts ran to her little sister. Like Visenya, Arya was harsh and unforgiving. She wore riding leathers and wielded swords and though she was beautiful she was stern. Sansa knew Arya was somewhere in her own riding leggings wielding her own sword 'Needle'

Sansa looked to Arya's empty bed.

"And where is Lady Meera?"

Brienne raised her eyebrow now.

"I see." Sansa said knowing Meera had chosen Bran's chambers instead of theirs this evening.

A knock came to the door. It was Maester Wolkan. Brienne let him in.

It was late but everyone's schedules had been adjusted to accommodate the feast. 

"Lady Sansa. Two Ravens have come today. One from the Neck and another from Oldtown."

The Maester put a small satchel upon Sansa's bed and bid her to sit as was their routine.

Brienne looked on from afar as she had come to do every night. When Maester Wolkan was in the service of the Boltons Sansa knew he detested them as much as she. He had patched her up on several occasions and although he would not say it, she knew it was he who had brewed the moon tea that Theon had slipped her.

Nonetheless Sansa was happy to have Brienne in the room while a man's hands were upon her, even a Maester.

She removed her shift and the Maester tended the sores and flayed skin on her back first. It burned and cracked as it healed. Sometimes it itched. She did not let herself touch it, not wanting to make it worse. The Maester had offered her milk of the poppy but Sansa always refused. She did not need to weaken her mind in addition to the injury Ramsay had caused her. He was tending the wounds for infection which thankfully had not set in. Her escape had exposed her to that risk but once back at Winterfell Maester Wolkan had seen to that. He applied an oil to help with the cracking and itching on this night.

"The itching is a good sign." 

Sansa stood in silence.

"It is healing better than I ever expected, My Lady."

She knew the Maester was trying to comfort her. She could hide her abuse under clothes during the day but she would be glad to be done with having a Maester at her every night, reminding her.

She then stood and he dressed her upper thighs. Bite marks ravaged her skin and scarred over but Maester Wolkan had a paste that would reduce the scarring. So far she had not seen the result.

The backs of her legs had more scarring, this from the whips Ramsay had fashioned. He had used them on horses and dogs and thought they suited Sansa as well. When he first took to beating her it hurt so bad she cried well into the mornings. Master Wolkan would see to her in the morning and mend her then and see to her once more in the evening before Ramsay began his torture all over again. He slipped her herbs to chew on to bear the pain but that only pushed Ramsay to cut or beat her more so she quit taking Wolkan's herbs as to spare the number of lashes.

Maester Wolkan raised her arm. He examined her breasts that were healing. Ramsay had thought to spare most of her chest, mayhaps she would need those parts if she did provide him with a son. Sansa stood in silence. Looking at her flayed body. "I'm a part of you now" had been Ramsay's last words to her. 

She supposed it was true as she slipped her shift back over her head.

Sansa thanked the Maester and Brienne showed him out.

Sansa had been in her cups but it only caused her to tire. She still had her wits about her.

She looked down at the scrolls. She looked at the seal from the Neck. House Reed's sigil. Sansa wished to wait to open that in the presence of Bran and Meera. 

The other scroll would be for Jon. It would be his friend Sam Tarly that he had sent to study at the Citadel. Sansa would let Jon open that letter, knowing it would either be useful information from Sam's studies or, she hoped, a raven marking Sam's return to the North. Either way it could wait until the morning when her eyes were fresh.

Brienne had tucked herself under her furs and blown out her candle. Sansa's flame was still lit as she began to think of Jon and how she wished to be in his chamber again. She looked at the featherbed that Davos had brought in for the girls, empty. Sansa wished she could escape hers as well. To be with Jon another night. 

She looked again at the scroll from Sam and unrolled it, sitting up as she did so. Making sure Brienne saw her.

She scanned its contents.

Sam had met Jorah Mormont ... Sansa knew that was Lyanna's uncle who had been banished from the North for selling slaves. It was also Lord Commander Mormont's son. He and a young blacksmith would make for Winterfell soon. He would send another Raven when he was closer.

Sansa expected as much. But it provided her the excuse she needed.

"Brienne. The raven from Oldtown...Jon would want to hear its news. I shall wait for him in his Chamber to discuss it."

Brienne had rose, ever dutiful, "Shall I escort you, Lady Sansa?"

Sansa put on a robe over her small clothes.

"No, sleep Brienne. I know your feet must ache, I know Jon was not a wonderful dance partner."

Sansa knew Brienne would not persist if she teased her.

"I believe Ghost and Jon will see to my safety. I will return when we are done discussing this matter. Do not worry."

Sansa smiled and made for the door. She was not interested in a discussion.

Sansa met Ghost outside the chamber. He followed her to the Lord's Chambers that Jon had finally taken. He was the King of course he should take the Lord's Chamber as she had insisted from the beginning but a part of Sansa had always thought of them sharing the chamber. 

She heard chants of "King in the North" and what had become her favorite cheer of the night "The Bran Beyond the Wall" as the free folk were still celebrating. Sansa knew Jon had to stay for a time with the men but knew he would want sleep soon.

She opened the chamber door. His room was warm but the fire had nearly burned out. She stoked the embers and added a piece of split wood to keep the flames alight. No candles were lit. The moonlight shown through his window but it was still dim. Sansa sat the note on the bedside table and removed her robe, down to her shift. She crawled into the large bed and under the furs and fought back sleep as her eyelids grew heavy.

She thought of Jon and their dance again. A smile came to her face as she thought about how she kissed him. How she wanted to do it again. Then she thought of how Jon had promised to rebuild the glass gardens for her and when he had said 'Our Children' she wished for those to be children she shared with Jon. How she pictured the two of them walking together in Winterfell watching their children play in the yards. She would name them Robb and Rickon, and raise them all to be as valiant as their father, the Dragonknight. In the dream there was even a girl who looked like Arya.

Sleep had nearly come for her when she heard him kicking off his boots.

He did not know she was here.

She watched him undress. Down to his small clothes. Robb's tunic came off and revealed Jon's body. The room was dark but the fire danced upon Jon's bare torso. She made out several scars on his chest and stomach before turning away, thinking of how she would not want anyone to see her own scars.

Jon made his way to the bed and Sansa rolled to him. He was wearing his nightshirt and smiled at her as she blinked awake.

She smiled at him.

"I have been waiting for you, Cousin."

She grabbed his arm and pulled him under the furs and into her arms.

"You have been teasing me all day cousin." he said to her meeting her smile with his own.

"I thought it was you that had been teasing me." Sansa said as he moved from her embrace to reposition himself.

He turned to be on his back and then gently pulled Sansa into him. She lay on her side tucked into his chest and he drew his hand around her to support her. He was more comforting than any pillow, Sansa thought.

Sansa felt his body next to her under the furs. Warm. Hard. Strong.

Jon turned to her and kissed her forehead.

She looked up at him. 

"I thought you would be in your own chamber on this night." 

Sansa smiled. "Yes, I was there. I --

she pulled herself on top of him and reached for the scroll on the table.

She let herself be on top of him. "I bring important news, so Lady Brienne waits for my return in our chamber, I told her this could not wait. 

Jon raised an eyebrow.

She handed him the opened scroll - "Sam will ride for Winterfell soon."

She rolled back into the nook Jon had positioned her in before.

Jon read the scroll and set it back onto the table.

He turned to Sansa. "This could not have waited until morning, cousin?" He said with a raising his eyebrow once more as he stroked her hair.

"the message.... yes, but not this."

Sansa moved to press her lips to his. Jon met her. 

Sansa felt her heart stir for him. She felt her stomach sink as her desire grew. She had thought of this for days. She let her hands slowly search his body. She felt Jon's own hand gently move to her cheek and then back as he smoothed through her hair, now loose from her braid. He kissed her deeper. He had wanted this too, she thought.

And then pulled away from her.

"Sansa." Jon said loudly, as if surprising himself.

Sansa withdrew.

Jon closed his free hand onto her own wandering hand and brought it to his chest.

Sansa could feel Jon's heart beat. Or was it her own heart beating so painfully in her own chest she felt.

"I - I...."

Sansa pressed her finger to his lips.

"It's okay Jon"

The lay in silence for a moment. Holding each other. 

She turned to him and began to run her fingers through his black curls. 

"I do not know what this means Sansa, for us, for the North."

Sansa looked at Jon who was as sullen as ever.

She turned to him and whispered. "But is this what you would want?"

He set his eyes upon her again and brought his hand to cup her cheek. She held his hand against his awaiting his answer. Her heart beating so loud she thought Jon might hear it in her chest.

"No Sansa, I would not want this." 

Sansa felt her heart sink. She moved her eyes down, not able to look him in the eye. She felt her cheeks grow warm and she swallowed hoping tears would not come.

He moved his hand from her cheek underneath her chin. Bidding her to draw her eyes to him again. Sansa felt as though she might cry but somehow she focused to him again.

He smiled.

"I would want you as my wife."

Sansa smiled back and blinked away a tear.

Jon thumbed it away.

"I wish to marry you Sansa. I wish for you to be my Queen."

He leaned to her.

"The children I spoke of earlier, they were ours we shared. I wish to have them live in Winterfell during a long Summer and play in the Glass gardens and climb the stairs of the Iron Tower and learn archery in the yards and to ride horses through the wolfs wood."

She breathed in as another tear fell down her cheek. This time in happiness and she gave a small laugh with that thought.

Jon pressed his head to hers. "A little boy named Robb with red hair, or Eddard mayhaps."

He looked at her and paused as he stroked her cheek drying away another tear.

"But before that I must marry their mother. In front of the Old Gods and make her my Queen."

Sansa held his hand against her cheek and her eyes looked into his as she calmed herself.

She nodded and whispered "I will find a way Jon."

Jon smoothed her hair along her brow and kissed her forehead.

"I know you will." he whispered as he began to lightly kiss her neck.

Sansa let him.

His kiss moved to her lips once more, a chaste kiss.

"For both our sakes I hope it is soon." He said as he withdrew his lips.

Sansa's heart was a flutter.

She rose from the bed and Jon sat up with her. Strategically placing the furs around his waist to hide what might have been his own excitement, Sansa thought.

Sansa leaned in, a final kiss and with almost painful swelling of her chest she pulled herself away from him.

As she made for her own chamber her mind reeled.

I must find a way.


	29. Dragons in the North

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The next four or so chapters will probably be set in Winterfell but I will edit to make it one chapter once they are all posted.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again - I added some to the last Dany chapter and added an Arya and Jaime chapter.
> 
> Added a SANSA POV to this chapter 12-05-16
> 
> Added a Dany POV 12-10-16
> 
> Added a Tyrion POV 12-11-16
> 
> Spelled it out a little more plainly on the Sansa POV of this chapter 12-14-16 ---- will end 'Dragons in the North' multiple POV with Jon.

Tyrion -

Tyrion was not yet accustomed to dragon riding. It was curious how he was even permitted to be on the back of one even with Daenearys. Two dragon riders upon one mount had never been documented but he reasoned it had to do with his size. Surely no one had let children on dragons and no other man as small as he had ever had station enough with the Targaryens to actually mount their dragons. He smiled with that - history’s most famous Imp! How his father would be proud.

He wondered if it would ever be possible to mount Viserion or Rhaegal himself. His better sense told him no. He had read much about dragons - as a boy - and even more so now. He knew enough that he would never mount Drogon alone. The bond between dragon and dragon rider was special. Once a dragon bonds with a rider, that dragon will not allow anyone else to mount it while its rider lives, though dragons will allow new riders once their previous rider is deceased. No rider though has ever ridden a different dragon while their current dragon was alive. Daenearys and Drogon belonged to each other in a way.

The connection was well documented during the Dance with Dragons. A truly sad story of Helanea Targaryen. Her mount was the she-dragon Dreamfyre. 

The Dance of the Dragons was a reckless and nearly senseless war between the Targaryens vying for the throne and resulted in the near destruction of all living dragons in Westeros.

With the death of King Viserys I Targaryen, a war for succession began. Helaena was informed of her father's passing a day after his death was discovered. When the decision was made to crown her husband, Prince Aegon, instead of Viserys's appointed heir, Princess Rhaenyra and so the war began. Dragons fought dragons and Westeros became divided supporting the greens and the blacks - the two Targaryen factions that had emerged vying for the crown.

Princess Rhaenyra’s two sons had been killed early in the war and she meant to have Aegon pay for their deaths. 

Helaena was accustomed to bring her children by her mother's chambers in the Tower of the Hand every night before they were put to bed. The two men Prince Daemon Targaryen, Rhaenyra's husband, had hired to murder one of Helaena's sons, were aware of this fact. Thus these two men, known as Blood and Cheese, hid in Alicent's chambers, bound and gagged Alicent, and murdered her bedmaid. There, they awaited Helaena's arrival. They took Helaena and her children hostage, and forced Helaena to choose which one of her sons would die. Helaena offered herself to die in their place, but her offer was refused. Threatening to have Blood rape her young daughter Jaehaera, and to kill all three of her children should she refuse, the two men forced Helaena to make a decision between the sons. In the end, Helaena reluctantly named her youngest child, Maelor, who she deemed to be to young to understand what was happening. In response, the two men killed her other son, Prince Jaehaerys, and fled with his head. Helaena became depressed and slowly sank into madness after Jaehaerys's death, and refused to eat, bathe, or leave her chambers. Nor would she look at her younger son, Maelor, anymore, knowing that she had chosen him to die.

She became truly mad and an unreliable dragon rider. Finally when her madness and depression took hold of her, she jumped from her window in Maegor's Holdfast at sunset.

It was said that at the moment of Helaena’s death Dreamfyre rose suddenly with a roar of sadness and shook the entire Dragonpit. The she-dragon shook the pit so hard she snapped two of the chains that bound her and could never be contained again.

 

Tyrion looked at the think black scales on Drogon's back and looked back at Daenerys who rode him with such ease. Surely they had that bond as well.

Viserion and Rhaegal had not chosen riders. He supposed that had to do with the lack of Valyrians left in this world. All previous dragon riders had been of Valyrian decent and all known riders in Westeros had been of Targaryen decent. House Velaryan had Targaryen ancestry and boasted several dragon riders as well but their House intermarried with the Targaryens so it was hardly the Velaryan blood - it was always the Targaryen blood. Even the Queen Rhaenyra's first husband had been a Velaryon. 

Tyrion thought on Targaryen bastards once more and his thoughts again returned to the Dance of the Dragons when the Prince Jacaerys Velaryon realised that his mother Queen Rhaenyra Targaryen's faction, the blacks, had many dragons but was in need of dragonriders. Attention was paid to Targaryen bastards as a potential dragonriders.

Due to the custom of ‘first right’ there were many Targaryen bastards among the smallfolk. The custom of the first night had been greatly resented in the Seven Kingdoms....however.... it was less protested on Dragonstone, where the Targaryens had ruled for centuries, because there the common folk viewed their beautiful, foreign rulers almost as gods the small folk often hoped to produce a bastard during First Right. These bastards born called themselves dragon seeds and there were so many silver haired bar maids and smiths among the countryside that it was hard to deny that Targaryens had fathered them.

Several wild dragons who knew no riders at this time were singled out and if any of these dragon seeds were able to master a dragon they would be rewarded with lands and titles for joining Rhaenarya. Several ‘seeds’ emerged as riders - Hugh the Hammer, a blacksmith's bastard, bonded with Vermithor, Ulf the White, a man-at-arms, bonded with Silverwing, Addam of Hull, bonded with Seasmoke, and a female rider known as Nettles who bonded with the dragon known as Sheepstealer. 

Tyrion could feel the temperature changing although the dragon natural heat kept the riders warm. Surely they were approaching the North soon.

He thought of the dragon seeds once more and looked at Daenerys again, her silver hair blowing in the wind. If what they had learned in Starfall was true they might find a dragon rider yet.

XXXX

Sansa

She was at her stitches this afternoon. It calmed her. She was good at it and it was useful.

This day she was sewing for Brienne. She had decided to make her leather armor as Jon wore, just as her Father had worn. 

In the South the Knights may wear expensive suits of metal and chainmail but in the North the climate was so harsh that leather served a soldier better. Iron and metals did nothing for warmth. It would not do well for a soldier to die of a chill before even stepping foot on the battlefield. Brienne fought in some sort of metal half suit. Sansa remembered the full armor Loras had worn in the Tourney at Kings Landing. It had been beautiful with details of golden roses all about the breastplate and helm. The Knight of Flowers. He was beautiful and charming. He had dazzled the thirteen year old girl that had gone to Kings Landing. So stupid and naive. She realized she missed two stitches thinking of Kings Landing.

Brienne would not require a suit of armor like Loras or Renly. She needed function and warmth. She needed to be practical. The leather suit with the furs and blue cape Sansa had fashioned for her would suit her better in the North. Most wore colors of brown and grey but sometimes blue was used and Sansa thought to honor her home, the Sapphire Isle, with that color selection.

Sansa used one of her old furs from the stores, or had it been her Lady Mothers? 

Roose Bolton had known not to burn everything that had once been Stark. It had been practical to keep some items - Most of the Stark clothes were in the stores but Sansa had seen Walda wearing one of her own capes once. One of light blue and white fur, Sansa did not like seeing it upon the back of a Frey even if it was the harmless Walda.

Sansa did not like to think on Walda either. So helpless. Sansa knew she had played a part in her death. Sansa was the one who reminded Ramsay he was a bastard and that a true born son of Roose would always have a better claim. When he made to tell her that he had been legitimized by King Tommen, Sansa cut him off, reminding him that Tommen Baratheon was just a bastard as well. When the babe came and it was a boy, Sansa knew Ramsay wouldn't let the child see his next name day. She had not seen Walda since she birthed the babe as well. Roose was gone, she had no one to protect her, not a half-brother at the wall, not the name Stark, and none of the political knowledge Sansa had acquired since she last left Winterfell. 

'When you play the Game of Thrones, you win or you die.'

That had been a favorite saying of Queen Cersei. Sansa knew its truth.

Sansa hated thinking Cersei had been right. Power is Power was also another of her favorite phrases, walking around so smugly in the Red Keep - goblet of wine in hand - surely in her mind she had won the war. 

'Little Dove' and 'Little Bird' the Queen always called her - thinking her so stupid and naive not realizing Sansa was taking her lessons and learning - learning how to never be so powerless ever again.

She finished the stitches. The North had power. All the Northern Houses rallied for Jon. But hen she thought of a new power she knew. As she looked out the window of her solar - she smiled - Little Bird she thought - as she slipped into a Winter Wren.

Birds were not as easy to warg into, they fought and writhed with their small brains to wrestle control but in the end they always lost to Sansa as she slipped into their feathers. Birds were not obedient as wolves are ...Sansa found it easy to slip into Ghost. She would walk the corridors of Winterfell and see with wolf eyes at night and in her dreams she sometimes slipped into a She-Wolf who prowled the Riverlands. A great beast with a pack of wolves at her back, hunting and howling in the night. 

Her feathers furrowed in the winter snow and Sansa slipped out of the wren and came back to her stitches. 

Jon had told Sansa he encountered a skin changer among the wildlings. The warg had told Jon that once a beast’s been joined to a man, any skinchanger can slip inside and ride him, just as a horse that knows a saddle can be ridden by any man. That was why she supposed it was so easy to slip into Ghost. 

Sansa blinked her eyes twice as she focused back on the leather piece before her.

Jon entered her solar with only Ghost behind him.

"Sansa."

She met his eyes.

"They're here. It's time.

xxxxxx

 

They rode out. Just the two of them. The King in the North and his Princess. 

Jon wished for she and Bran to stay well within the walls of Winterfell, safe. It would not serve the North for all the Starks to be burned by Dragon's fire he had said. Sansa knew there was truth in that but she wanted to be there. She always wished to be beside Jon.

Jon rode tall next to her. He wore a black cloak with his grey fur. His leather that she had made for him at Castle Black. His hair was pulled back as a Northman would have it. Stark. 

The winter sky was overcast and a bit of flurries were coming down, dusting her red hair and then melting against the heat of her body.

Shadows appeared and she looked up. 

Dragons.

Three large shadows circled the winter sky and one grew larger in approach. 

The Black Dragon.

The white dragon followed and finally the green. They all landed behind the Great Black dragon and his riders. 

Sansa remembered her histories and thought of Aegon the Conqueror's dragon Balerion. "The Black Dread" he was called. Balerion had been the largest of all the Targaryen dragons. His fire was as black as his scales, his wingspan so vast that entire towns would fall under his shadow when he passed overhead. His teeth were as long as swords, and his jaws were so large it was said that he could swallow a hairy mammoth whole.

This was Balerion reincarnated.

The great beast bowed his head and a small woman and even smaller man emerged from behind the mass of wings and scales.

Jon dismounted and he looked at Sansa.

She was still looking upon the dragons, this time looking at the white dragon. As she studied him closer she took note of his color. While his horns and spines were white but his wings are red .... or orange mayhaps.

Still upon her horse she sought to slip into him. It burned her like fire and the beast let out a shriek then a roar in resistance. Smoke came from his mouth as Sansa hesitated.

The dragon queen looked back and noticed the dragon's discontent but Sansa pushed through forcing herself into him. He bit writhed and then suddenly she was looking at the field from the eyes of the beast, within his scales, but only for a second and just as suddenly she slipped out of him.

Jon came to her side and offered his hand. To steady her. He knew what she had done. She blinked twice and gripped his gloved hand and swung herself out of the saddle and dismounted her bay mare. She held Jon's hand a bit longer than necessity required and gave it a final squeeze as Tyrion and the Dragon Queen approached.

She looked at he white beast again. 

Jon let a small smile slip from his lip. 

"Ready then, Love?" he asked.

XXXXXXXXXX

 

DANY

 

As they moved away from Drogon the air grew colder. 

'Winter is Coming' Dany thought as flurries began to dust her hair and shoulders. The dress she wore was hardly suitable for the North. Dorne and Meereen's climates suited her - the North was no place for a dragon. Close to the dragons she had been warm but as she strode towards Jon Snow and Sansa Stark Daenerys felt chilled for the first time in her life.

Tyrion carried a pack they had acquired from Starfall. What she learned from the Lady Allyaria still weighed heavy on her mind. "Dany watched Tyrion's short legs as they waddled towards the Starks, meeting her pace.

As they approached Dany noticed Sansa Stark first. Her hair was bright red, like fire she thought - Sansa was slender and tall, even taller than Jon Snow. She was graceful and elegant. Dany understood why Sansa Stark would have been a prize for House Baratheon, Lannister or Tyrell to secure a marriage with - even without the name Stark surely she would have had suitors asking for her hand. 

Daenerys then noticed her eyes - she blinked curiously as they approached. The Dragons were a sight to behold, perhaps she was scared but by the time they reached the pair her eyes were cold and focused. Light blue like ice or steel.

Tyrion strode ahead of her. Eager to make the introduction.

Daenerys brought her own eyes to meet those of Jon Snow. Dark gray and so full of sorrow Daenerys almost thought them black in color. His face was beautiful but scarred and he was true to the Stark appearance from what Dany had read - long, solemn and guarded— and a face that gave nothing away. 

Dany could tell he was protective over Lady Sansa. He walked a bit in front of her and held his gloved hand on the hilt of his sword, the other hand open, palm facing the girl, as if he was ready to shield her from dragon's fire at any moment.

"Jon Snow, we meet again. And I thought the Wall suited you so well."

Daenerys noted he was not amused and only looked cut his eyes to Sansa, as if asking her permission to cut Tyrion down.

She gave no such order.

It was Sansa who cut him off.

"It is King Jon Snow. The King in the North, you'll do well to remember that, Lord Tyrion"

"And my lovely Lady Wife, Sansa." Tyrion said and he gave her a courteous bow.

She only raised an eyebrow at him. 

"May I present - Daenerys Targaryen, Rightful Queen of the Seven Kingdoms."

Lady Sansa moved forward to be next to her King and gave a graceful curtsey to Daenerys.

"We welcome you both....even you husband" she said with jest.

Daenerys noted that Jon Snow shifted his weight uneasy as the word husband came from Sansa's lips.

"Come" she said, "we have prepared a modest meal for you both at our table."

Daenerys gave a raised eyebrow to Tyrion.

He gave her a nod.

Guest Right, she thought.... a sacred law of hospitality, especially here in the north. She remembered what Tyrion had taught her that when a guest, be he commonborn or noble, eats the food and drinks the drink off a host's table beneath the host's roof, guest right is invoked and when invoked, neither the guest nor the host can harm the other for the length of the guest's stay. For either to do so would be to break a sacred covenant that is believed to invoke the wrath of the gods both the old and the new.

Tyrion had told her of the Red Wedding - where Lord Frey and Lord Bolton betrayed guest right and murdered the Starks at what was meant to be a celebration. How Tyrion's own father likely had played a part in organizing it although he did not dare dirty his own hands.

"Yes, Lady Sansa we would welcome that." Daenerys said with a smile. 

The snow came faster and colder now against Daenerys skin. Drifting snowflakes brushed her face as light as lover’s kisses, and melted on her cheeks and the unfamiliar feeling of cold came across her again.

Lady Sansa must have realized how uncomfortable she was in the Winter air.

Sansa removed her cloak gracefully and placed it about Dany's own shoulders.

Dany looked and saw Jon Snow do the same for Tyrion with a fox pelt that had been on his cloak. 

"Thank you my Lady. But -"

"I will be fine, Your Grace." Sansa said, Daenerys noting her use of the title 'Your Grace'

"We are Starks of the North, we were born with Ice in our veins and the cold only makes us stronger."

Yes, Daenerys thought - you are quite strong here. The frightened girl in Kings Landing Olenna had described was surely gone.

"King Jon" Daenerys said. "please lead the way." However much she hated calling him King she knew her situation required it...she might have three dragons but she was about to enter the Wolf's Den.

 

XXXXXXX

TYRION

 

They received guest right as promised.

Afterwards Sansa had showed them to their guest chambers. She was as polite and courteous as he remembered. 

"Courtesy is a lady's armor" was her Septa's teachings. It allowed her to be cold and aloof towards him in their marriage, a shield to her own true feelings. He would need to remember that still. His jests and humor were not lost on her but it did not help his cause either.

As Daenerys entered her room Tyrion was shown to a chamber just down the corridor. 

"Lord Tyrion."

Sansa gave a forced smile.

"I trust you'll find these accommodations suitable. If not I remember last time you came to Winterfell you preferred the brothel just outside our gates in Winter Town. I trust you'll remember the way?"

Sansa made to leave on that.

Tyrion caught her hand.

"My Lady."

Sansa turned to him.

She was much taller than him now. Even taller than she was when he was her husband in Kings Landing.

He looked up into her icy blue eyes.

"If it pleases my Lady, I thought we might have a walk. Just the two of us?"

Sansa withdrew her hand from his and her other hand moved her touch to the dire wolf that had trailed behind her in silence since they left the company of Jon Snow.

"Please, my Lady. I know things were not left on the best of terms between us, I would like that to change."

She looked down and then met his eyes again.

"Very well." She said 

They walked out from the Guest Hall, passed the courtyard of men where Tyrion saw Jon Snow with his men. Wildlings from the looks of them. He noticed the look Jon gave to Sansa as she led them into the library tower. 

How their relationship had changed he thought. When he last was here Lady Catelyn had hid Jon Snow away with the stable boys, but now her daughter Sansa Stark had hailed him as her King.

He looked around as he entered the library - he had not been here on his previous visit to Winterfell. It was roughly the same size as the library at Casterly Rock. Winterfell of course being one of the oldest noble houses it would boast a library as large as his fathers.

A game of cyvasse was set up and Sansa bid him to sit.

Sansa looked terribly uncomfortable and just when Tyrion meant to speak to break the silence Sansa spoke - hushed but sincere, he thought.

"I - I do wish to thank you Lord Tyrion." She said. 

"I have known cruelness at the hands of many but you never brought any harm to me."

Her face grew flushed.

Tyrion wished to move to comfort her but he thought that was still inappropriate, even if he had been her husband.

"I do not count you as an enemy." She said and he saw her eyes meet his again.

Tyrion made to move his pieces on the cyvasse board and he fumbled a rabble..... He was as uncomfortable as she was, thinking back to their time in Kings Landing.

"It was long ago. I am only sorry I could not have protected you from the other hardships you were left to endure...."

He trailed off. He did not wish to upset her, but now of course she understood he had known how she came to be in her position, what had happened to her since she left Kings Landing.

Sansa began to move her pieces on her side of the cyvasse board. He saw her lift an elephant. 

He never had seen Sansa play the game before, not knowing if she truly knew the rules. It was a complicated game - each players arranging tiles and pieces behind a screen before the game starts - then the screen is revealed. The objective was to capture the King. Certain pieces moved certain ways but the Dragon was the most powerful piece, able to move in ways the other pieces could not. As it was in real life Tyrion thought. 

Sansa continued, "Yes, Tyrion. That is in the past but I could not help but to dwell on the wording of your...."

she trailed off. She wanted him to speak.

"The letter, Yes....The letter I sent, surely you are referring to that." he said. 

Truth be told Tyrion was surprised she had sorted his meaning from the letter. Surely she was wondering if he meant to take her as his wife once more.

She still moved pieces about the board, as if it was more important than the conversation they were having.

She nodded and Tyrion saw her lift a jade crossbowman piece. 

"Yes, well you are correct, we do wish to ally with the North. Queen Daenerys and I had hoped to secure a marriage between the Targaryens and the Starks."

Sansa looked him in the eye and then resumed her focus to the cyvasse board.

"For Jon to marry Daenerys then?"

Tyrion looked at the board. He moved his Heavy Horse and was satisfied with his formations and then he eyed Sansa.

"Yes. That was the original intent. We have come across information though...."

Sansa moved a piece below the shield and raised an eyebrow to Tyrion.

"What information, my Lord?" she said as she resumed moving tiles.

Tyrion gauged the conversation and saw no reason not to continue.... 

"Only that there has already been a marriage between the Targaryens and the Starks."

He looked at Sansa now, waiting for her response.

Sansa did not blink. She only cut her eyes around to see who was about in the library. Who might have heard, but there was no one, Tyrion knew that before he spoke.

They were alone. The only other soul about was the dire wolf that sat at Sansa's feet.

Her reaction was curious though.

She knew, Tyrion thought.

"Ready then?" She said as she removed the shield from the board. 

Tyrion was impressed by her formations. She surprised him yet again, she had learned to play cyvasse....or perhaps she knew all along.

Sansa moved first.

She eyed his board and moved her catapult. 

"Aunt Lyanna and the Prince Rhaegar, you mean." she said as if it was common knowledge throughout the Seven Kingdoms that the Prince had in fact married Lyanna Stark.

Tyrion was surprised but he tried not to show it, had she known this information all along? No surely not. He wished this was news to her, so he might have the upper hand. Knowledge was power. At least he had confirmed what Lady Alyria had told them...but perhaps Sansa did not know the whole story. 

He moved an Elephant forward to maneuver around a mountain, still aloof and trying to read Sansa's reaction.

"Yes. Then you know" He said, trying to remain calm.

She examined his board, eyeing the water tiles and then moved a Trebuchet.

"Yes, she said, but I am curious, how did you come to discover this?"

Tyrion made haste to move his light horse, realizing he could remove her dragon in a few moves.

"The Lady Alyria Dayne in Starfall. She told us of what your Lord Father had done. How he protected Ashara's babe in Dorne from King Robert."

She moved only moved a spearman in response.

"How he sought to protect Lady Ashara Dayne from the dishonor that came to her at the Tourney of Harrenhall at the hands of the Mad King."

Sansa made a rather silly move that resulted in the loss of one of her elephants. Perhaps she did not know the full story he thought. 

Tyrion continued in a hushed voice as he moved and took out her Trebuchet.

"Ashara had been dishonored at the Tourney resulting her pregnancy - it was well known that she had a stillborn and wrought with grief she -"

"She jumped from the highest tower in Starfall did she?" Sansa said as she moved another piece - her spearman - still leaving her dragon open. 

Sansa focused on the board. She took a rabble of his but her silence invited Tyrion to continue once more. 

"Your father had meant to marry her, raise her child as his own....but that was before the war and before the Mad King killed your Uncle Brandon. 

Then when the babe was born with silver hair and purple eyes he knew he could not pass her as a Stark even if he had wanted to take her North or marry Ashara and so he smuggled her to Ser Willem Darry who raised her in the stead of Queen Rhaella's true born daughter who had died during childbirth ... where she was safe from the Baratheons ---- far away, across the Narrow Sea. 

Tyrion looked at Sansa who was only eyeing the board. He moved his fat fingers across several of his pieces. Buying time.

"The Prince Viserys was young, perhaps he did not know she was not his true born sister, or maybe he did, which is why he had no qualms selling Daenerys to the Dothraki..."

Sansa still sat listening looking at the board. Calm and still.

So then when Lord Eddard found his sister Lyanna dying at the Tower of Joy he did what he had meant to do before...he rode North with the babe and claimed it as his own bastard. Your King.... Jon Snow."

"The Daynes knew his secret for it was there secret as well." he said, looking to Sansa once more, trying to read her face.

None of this was new information to Sansa he thought. Her face was like ice. She gave nothing away. A surprise such as this would have brought the Sansa Stark he knew in Kings Landing to her knees. Shook her to the core. Maybe this was a secret that Starks well knew, all sworn to protect their brother from Robert, or maybe only Jon had known and told her after they reclaimed Winterfell.

Tyrion moved his light horse, he was in position to take her dragon in two moves now.

Even the worst players knew the dragon was the most powerful piece on the board, Tyrion hardly had found a worthy opponent aside from Varys, but this was not why she brought him here, she brought him here to talk. 

Sansa raised only raised an eyebrow as she moved her fingers from piece to piece, deciding on her next move.

"You are worried that Jon's parentage poses a threat to her claim then?"

Tyrion moved his gaze to Sansa. She only looked at the board and then back to him as she finally moved a Trebuchet.

He nodded yes in response.

Tyrion moved and set his catapult to capture Sansa's dragon on the next turn.

Sansa moved her dragon but it was futile. Tyrion had her trapped in the next move.

He continued. 

"You see...." Tyrion said as he made to take her dragon... "It seems we both have dragons we should be protecting, Sansa. I am only here to ensure Daenerys will reclaim the Iron Throne and to make sure the North would not oppose her claim."

Sansa raised her eyebrow and sat taller in her chair.

"I can ensure you that the North has no interest in the Iron Throne, but we will not bend the knee either. We have no interest in the South and so neither I nor my cousin will not be accepting any betrothals or proposing any marriages on this visit."

With that Sansa moved her heavy horse and took his King.

"You see, Lord Tyrion, it is not the Dragon I mean to protect but my King."

JON

 

He was in the yards with his men when he saw them, he came here to take his mind off of Winterfell's guests but found he could find no solace even in Winterfell's training yard.

The library tower faced the courtyard where the men trained. The vast open area was useful as more and more men had come to Winterfell since Jon and Sansa had reclaimed it - free folk and Westerosi alike needing a place to station themselves before the next battle - The battle against the undead.

Jon watched as Tyrion followed Sansa to Winterfell's library. Ghost was with her. He did not worry about her safety - he only worried what the content of their conversation might be. 

Just then, as he was lost in his thoughts, he was knocked straight to his knees.

Jon spun around and unsheathed his blade to meet another blow.

Tormund.

He picked himself up matching the wildling's strength but he was at a disadvantage. That was the only way Tormund ever bested Jon - using his wildling tricks to catch him off guard. Jon did not mind because who knew what kind of tricks the undead may have - he welcomed not only sparring with polished Knights and men of honor. He needed this training as well. 

Jon spun his blade away and moved to Tormund's left. The wildling always favored his right. Jon regained his footing and he noticed all the men in the yard - the green boys, squires, knights and free folk were all about them. Many began to jeer and cry out for their champions. 

Tormund placed a kick onto meant for his chest but Jon spun away and it only hit his thigh - still a blow but Jon regained his balance quickly.

Jon engaged once more and matched Tormund blow for blow. Jon was quick. Tormund was strong and his height oft proved an advantage. 

Jon finally danced his way around the wildling finally landing his blade to Tormund's arm. A flesh wound that only enraged his friend. Jon realized Lady Brienne was in the crowd as well. Tormund never liked being bested but especially when in Brienne's presence. The wildling smiled as blood stained his jerkin. 

Jon met a heavy blow with Longclaw once more spun out but then himself received a flesh wound to the arm. The Wildling laughed. 

"Another scar for yer collection King Crow!"

The free folk cheered Tormund on with that.

Jon grimaced and smiled through his pain. He raised his sword to engage once more when he felt hot. 

Then a shadow covered the winter sun and Jon saw Tormund lower his sword as he looked up.

The crowd grew silent around him as the air grew hotter.

Jon looked up now and saw what caused the melee to stop.

The Green Dragon - Rhaegal he had heard Daenearys call him. 

He meant to land in the yard. The yard cleared save a few.

Jon looked to Tormund now who had raised his sword once more. Jon ran to him.

"No - Let him Land"

Jon did not know why but he felt that the dragon would not hurt him. If it did - surely the North would rally for him and kill the dragon queen for breaking Guest Right.

As Rhaegal landed the air grew unbearably hot. Tormund had lowered his sword. Jon noticed Brienne had come to his side and had her hand on the hilt of her blade. 

"If he wanted us dead we'd be burned already." Jon screamed. 

The wildling and the lady knight were clearly bewildered. Jon did not know why he was not. 

Jon felt compelled to approach the beast - he noted his think green and bronze scales that changed in color in the light of the Winter Sun... they gleam like jade. Then Jon looked into his eyes of bronze, he thought them to be brighter than polished shields, and they seemed glow with their own heat. 

Jon realized he was standing before the dragon now. Face to face and that Tormund and Brienne had ducked away out of sight. 

Jon raised his gloved hand to him. Why, again he did not know, but with his hand outstretched the dragon bent to him and allowed Jon to touch his scales. Hot just as he had imagined.

Suddenly he heard a woman's voice. It was speaking Valyrian. Jon did not turn to meet the voice but only held his gaze with Rhaegal. The dragon's eyes locked with his and just for a moment. Shadows stirred overhead and Rhaegal dropped his head and with a great bat of his wings flew off to meet his brothers overhead.

Jon only looked up watching him fly out of sight. He was finally roused from the encounter by a familiar voice.

"Jon!"

It was Sansa. She sounded worried.

He took survey of the yard. Men had come out of the corners of the yards where they had sought to shield themselves. Brienne and Tormund stood only a few paces back from where they meant to stand their ground. Their mouths agape.

Jon felt Sansa's hands come to his shoulders and she spun him to her, bringing her hands to his face. Meeting his eyes, searching for what happened. Jon did not know. It was not like anything he had experienced. It was not like slipping into Ghost, it was almost a trance, an instinct that directed his actions. 

Sansa's hand found the cut on his arm Tormund had given him.

"You're hurt - "

Jon cut her off. "It wasn't the dragon - It's nothing... It's just from training."

Sansa raised an eyebrow to him.

"But Rhaegal did not know that -"

Daenearys approached them now. 

Jon realized that Tyrion was following. He could not meet Sansa's pace as she had rushed to him from the library.

Tyrion's short legs finally found their way to the three of them. 

"Well - I believe that confirms it."

Jon looked to Sansa. 

Had she told him?

Jon moved his focus back to the Imp.

"Well" Tyrion said with a small smile. The one he always seemed to wear. "Should bring interesting conversation tonight when we sup, Your Grace." He bowed to Jon and walked away with Dany. Taking her by her hand as if ushering her away.

Jon looked up once more. Shadows still swirled overhead.

He looked around the yard again. 

"Brienne, please see to the training for the rest of the evening. Tormund needs to watch his own back, for I believe he has made an enemy of a dragon!"

Some free folk laughed but most were still too startled from the experience.

Sansa took Jon by his right arm. 

"Did you ---" She waited for him to understand her question.

Jon shook his head no. He knew what she was asking. "Did he slip into the Dragon?" was what she had meant.

He did not need to slip into the dragon's skin. That was what startled him.

"Well. I see." she said, leading him gently away from the courtyard. 

She touched his jerkin where it was torn as they walked past a squire and wiped a bit of blood onto her apron.

"We should get that looked at, Your Highness." She gave Jon a smile as they made for his chamber.

 

XXXXXX

 

Jon noticed Sansa blushed when he took off his leathers and jerkin.

He was just in his small leggings now. This was as little clothes he had ever had on in her presence. Even the night she snuck into his chamber he had been in his small clothes and night shirt when he was in bed.

Sansa tried to look down, to look away from his bare chest. She focused on the basin before her as she rang a cloth of warm water out bringing it to his arm.

As she pressed the warm cloth to him he caught her looking at his scars. The ones on his chest that she had not seen before. The ones his Brothers had given him. Jon thought he saw a tear in Sansa's eye.

He took her hand and stopped her from what she was doing.

"Its okay Love." He said. "They do not hurt anymore."

He took her hand and brought it to his chest against the scar next to his heart. It was beating loudly in his chest. Sansa's hand was cool to the touch of him. 

"They cannot hurt me anymore. Those men are dead."

Sansa looked at him and then again at his scars. She moved her palm and fingertips slowly down his stomach, lingering over the scars his brothers had placed there. She turned the back of her hand against him smoothing him gently. He looked down at her hand and then looked to Sansa.

He felt his manhood stir.

He wished he could be with her in this moment she was all he wanted. But he would not dishonor her in that way. He must wait.

Her eyes met his but as she looked at him she must have realized his desire and pulled her hand away from him. She began to focus again on her task once more as Jon's heart settled.

"But Tormund is not dead, and you both should be more careful in the yards."

Jon smiled at her. With that he could not argue.

Then Sansa retrieved her needle and set in on him, stitching him back together.

He had never seen her do this before, using her skills in this way.

She finished and looked up at him as he raised an eyebrow to her.

"I've seen Maester Wolkan do it many times and he is not half as good with his needle as I am."

Jon looked at his arm. It was true, the stitches were neat and small, deftly sealing his wound.

Jon knew where Sansa had seen Wolkan work his needles. He did not like to think on that. He had not seen Sansa's scars. Not yet.

He pulled a clean jerkin onto his head and Sansa cleared away her needle and the basin.

She moved to the desk and Jon knew she was addressing her King now. 

He sat next to her looking at a map of 'The Gift' that was laid upon the table from another night.

He looked at Sansa and she had a small smile upon her face and her eyes met his. 

"Shall I tell you what Tyrion has proposed?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> soon guys. soon.


	30. A Wolf Among Lions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Will post to this a few times detailing Arya's adventure.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry for the delay in post. 
> 
> Thank you for the words of encouragement as well to anyone who left a comment.
> 
> I'll try to hit off a few chapters this week.

They had arrived at the Twins with a small force of Tully men and made quick work of the Frey men that splintered when set upon. No real commander was amongst the Freys and the Blackfish had known this. They came at night and made quick work of the two identical stone castles standing on a margin of the Green Fork of the Trident. 

They took the castle with but sixty men. It had been easy. The remaining Freys had fought and fractured after Old Walder Frey's death causing brother to kill brother seeking Lordship of the Twins. Walder Frey had nine wives and boasted twenty-two trueborn sons and seven trueborn daughters from his marriages, none of them fit to rule or raise an army. 

Arya had once heard her mother repeat the words of her grandfather, Lord Hoster Tully about Old Walder's ways, saying "Walder Frey was the only lord in the Seven Kingdoms who could field an army out of his breeches." Arya saw the truth in that. Over a dozen sons laying claim and raising armies of but twenty ill-trained soldiers. By the time the Freys realized it was not their own men setting upon the castle it was too late for the Blackfish had taken both the East and the West Towers of the Twins before dawn. Truth be told many of the Freys did the work for them, killing the shields of their brothers before realizing it was a common enemy in the Tullys they should be fighting. Arya smiled recounting how easy it had been.

That was two moon's turn ago. They held the Twins and waited to treat with the Kingslayer who had arrived with his own small army of fifty men. 

They had received a rider that detailed Ser Jaime's march to the Twins. He had taken Highgarden with ease and named Lord Randyll Tarly Lord Paramount of the Mander and the liege Lord of the Reach. 

Arya thought of her lessons. House Tarly of Horn Hill. They boasted a Valyrian Steel blade, Heartsbane, she remembered. Their house words were "First in Battle" ... Arya thought it was more like "First to Betray." How long had the Tarlys been sworn to the Tyrells only to betray them for the Lannisters. 

Now she was treating with the Lannisters and keeping Freys alive. 

The only Freys that remained alive where the ones Arya had brought with them on this siege. Emmon Frey and Genna Lannister and their sons. 

Her bargaining chips. She would see that she honored her word if the Kingslayer would honor his. This is what he had come to discuss.

The Twin Towers were only a part of the Frey's hold. The importance of the seat was actually in its position and being Lords of the Crossing. A stone bridge arched between the East and West Towers, with the bridge footings rising from within the inner keeps. This bridge is wide enough for two wagons to cross abreast. It is the only crossing point over the Green Fork for hundreds of miles in either direction, from the north to the western riverlands. It lies directly athwart the main route from Winterfell to Riverrun. 

That is why Arya needed to hold the Twins. Riverrun was held by Edmure once more, it was the first target if the South headed towards Winterfell. More importantly though was the Twins, if an ally were to hold the Twins then no army could march on Winterfell.

Arya sat at the dais of the dark room. It was not much of a Great Hall as her Father's in Winterfell was or her Lady Mother's family's hold Riverrun had boasted. The room let little light in and as her Tully men lined the room the Hall grew smaller and smaller.

Beside Arya sat her Uncle, The Blackfish, who had not left her side since they recaptured Riverrun. His regret that he did not aid Sansa and Jon weighed on his mind and for that he swore his sword to Arya, for Family, Honor, Duty he had told her. He would not forget those words again.

Down from the dais she looked upon the Frey boys Cleos, Tion, and Red Walder. They were weak and ugly like their Father. Long necks and dumb faces, Arya thought. No sign of a Proud Lion but except for the color of their hair. 

Genna Lannister was a proud Lioness once but like Arya's own mother Genna's only loyalty lay with her children and their safety. She did not care if it was a Lion or a Bridge on her banners but only that her sons were alive. She sat next to her youngest, Red Walder in anticipation of her nephew's arrival. 

Arya sat with needle across her legs. 

Guards opened the door and there he was. The Kingslayer.

Arya had not seen him since they were at Kings Landing. When her Father still lived. He was missing his hand. His sword hand. His face looked twenty years older. He was still handsome she supposed but not the Golden Knight he had once been. There was almost a sadness in his face and she noticed his stance was not as proud as it once was.

He walked before her and gave a small bow. 

Arya clenched the hilt of needle and saw the Kingslayer's eyes meet the blade. A sign that no guest right was to be provided.

Jaime smiled a smug smile as he turned his eyes to the Blackfish and then the rest of the room. 

"I knew your mother." He said, his eyes not meeting hers.

Arya was silent. Waiting for him to continue.

The Blackfish was at her shoulder. He stirred at the mention of his sister but did not speak.

"She made a deal for your life once. She set me free against ... what did you Northerners call him?" The Kingslayer looked around for an audience that cared to indulge his arrogance. He found no such audience not even with his Aunt. Genna only gave her son Tion's hand a small squeeze. Nervous as she should be as she looked on at her nephew.

"The Young Wolf was it? Or...Robb, you called him, I believe... yes. Against his wishes your mother made that deal.... and we all know how that ended, don't we?"

Arya's face gave nothing away. Hearing her brother's name on the Kingslayer's lips would have made Sansa cry she knew but not Arya. Arya was strong like her Father. Strong like Robb.

Arya stood, holding Needle at her side.

"You betrayed your word to my mother and your Father conspired for Robb's head with Lord Frey..."

Arya looked around at the room. Genna, the ugly Frey boys, a handful of Lannister men Jaime had brought from Casterly Rock, about a dozen men stood behind him and Arya knew more Lannister men were outside the East Tower, all sworn to Ser Jaime. She looked at her own Tully men who lined the room. She did not want to mince words and she did not want to indulge the Kingslayer but she knew she must be cautious, holding the Twins against a Lannister army, no matter the size, was not what Arya wanted at this time. 

She chose her words carefully.

"Lord Frey", she began "betrayed the sacred custom of Guest Right for he knew he could not beat my Brother on the Battlefield as an honorable man would.... now you tell me Kingslayer, how did it end for Lord's Tywin and Frey?"

Arya looked around the room once more, she was the Red Woman amongst crowded dark room with a shrewd smile on her lips. 

Arya sat again.

"I do not come here to talk of the dead, Lady Arya." 

Arya thought this was the first time she had heard that title used for her....Lady..... she wondered if the Kingslayer knew she hated it.

"I mean to meet the demands of your letter...."

Arya raised an eyebrow.

The Kingslayer looked at his Aunt and then met Arya's eyes.

"and to uphold the oath I swore to your mother."

Arya stirred in her chair.

"You see I was to see to you and Sansa make a safe return to Lady Catelyn and the Young Wolf, but some things were not always in my control."

The Kingslayer raised his golden hand. 

Arya only looked on.

"Who do you suppose sent Lady Brienne to Sansa's aid, Lady Arya?"

Arya remembered the blade Lady Brienne had carried when she had meant to rescue Arya from Sandor Clegane when they approached the Eyrie. The Hound had made blade it out as Lannister - A Lion pommel in gold. Arya looked at Ser Jaime's pommel and blade now. It was a twin to Brienne's sword.

"And from what I am told your sister is safe and well with Lady Brienne now her sworn shield."

The Kingslayer pulled his sword from his scabbard with his left hand and placed it before him on the ground.

This was not the terms that she and Genna had crafted in her letter. This was something else. A Lannister trick perhaps. But Arya looked him in the eyes. His sadness stirred her, making her believe the words he was speaking to her.

It was true. Her Uncle had told her that Brienne was sworn to Sansa. The most loyal Knight in the Seven Kingdoms he had called the Lady Brienne. Arya had seen her fight too. She was near the best, she was not some sellsword. The Kingslayer was true on this count. 

Arya looked into his sad eyes once more as she took a deep breath.

"I mean to return you to Winterfell to The King in the North, Jon Stark"

The Blackfish stood behind Arya now.

It happened so fast. Arya stood calm as her breath quickened.

The Kingslayer was at his knees now as his eyes met hers again.

"I bend the knee to House Stark and surrender my remaining men to you." 

Arya approached him.

He looked her in the eye from where he knelt.

"I offer my services to you Lady Arya of House Stark....

He means to be my sworn shield, Arya thought.

Arya looked back where the dozen Lannister men were now on their knees with their swords down before them swearing fealty to her house.

The Kingslayer continued.

"I will shield your back and keep your counsel and give my life for yours if need be. I swear it by the Old Gods and the New."

He looked up at her now and gave a sly smile.

"I swear by any Gods you bloody like."


	31. Brienne

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Payoff at the end.

Had he touched the dragon?

Brienne replayed the scene in her mind over and over.   The dragon came down upon them.  It was hot.  Jon Snow had calmed it.  His hand had risen and had he touched the beast?

She thought of her lessons. When she was a girl at Evenfall Hall. She imagined her childhood was not unlike Sansa's really. Her Father was the Evenstar of Tarth, a small but noble house in the Stormlands. Her family had controlled the Straits of Tarth which lie between the island of Tarth and the mainland stormlands, north of Shipbreaker Bay. The Isle of Tarth itself was beautiful and a scenic stronghold. Her Father, Selwyn Tarth, was a good man, he had wanted a son but only got Brienne instead. He had loved her as he should though and gave her the education any Lordling would have received on the Mainland. Lord Selwyn kept a Singer at Evenfall when Brienne was younger that allowed her to memorize the songs and a Maester and Septa had taught her her lessons as it would have been in Winterfell for Sansa and her highborn siblings.

Brinenne loved the songs as Sansa did. Not all the songs were of Lovers and Ladies and dashing Knights. There were histories in the Songs. Brienne remembered 'The Hammer and the Anvil' and 'The Dance with Dragons' and the other Targaryen songs. They recounted the tales of Baelor Breakspear and the Doom of Valyria. There were truths and lessons in those songs. Her father's library was full of books but she was always more fond of his training yards.

 

She thought back to the Songs and books of her youth.

 

Had he touched the dragon?

Only Targaryens were known Dragon Riders.  Jon Snow did not much look the part of the Targaryen but Brienne thought back once more on Baelor Breakspear, eldest son and heir of King Daeron and his wife Mariah Martell of Dorne.  Baelor was a warrior, and seemed to be all that could be wished in a knight, lord, or heir. He was also a man who could win respect with ease, and was as open-handed and just as his father....However, too many men looked upon Baelor's dark hair and eyes and muttered that he was more Martell than Targaryen.  

And Ser Duncan the Small, Aegon V's heir.  The Prince of the Dragonflies he was called.  Like his Father, Aegon V, he was good and fair but in the end he cast his crown aside to marry his love,  Jenny of the Oldstones, a commoner.  The Dragonfly Prince too took the features of his Lady Mother, a Blackwood.  His Father, Aegon V had the Targaryen look, light of hair with Indigo Eyes .... as did Duncan's brothers, Jahaerys and Daeron.  The Dragonfly Prince was Dark of Hair and dark of eye as the Blackwoods of Raventree were. 

The door opened slowly where Brienne and Pod had been waiting for Sansa whilst she met with her Brothers this morning.  Brienne did not leave Sansa's side for too long while the Dragon Queen was here, or Lord Tyrion.  Sansa did not seem to fear their presence though, perhaps she knew even the best swordsmen in Westeros was no match for Dragonfire

Brienne's eyes met Jon's as he walked out of Bran's room where she and Podrick had been waiting.

She looked into his gray eyes and thought that they were so dark they were almost black.   Stark.  No sign of Targaryen, Brienne thought.  Puzzled.

"Lady Brienne"  he said.

Sansa followed him from the room and smiled at Brienne when she walked past her shield.

Brienne peaked in behind the oak door of the chamber to see Lady Meera and Lord Bran deep in the chamber upon Bran's large bed.  

Brienne bowed as Lady Meera's eyes met hers and with that Brienne turned to follow Lady Sansa who had taken Jon's arm now, leaving Pod to stay with Lord Brandon.  Her squire was strong enough to lift and move Lord Bran about and it suited Brienne to provide her Squire's services to Lady Sansa's brother.

"They leave on the 'morrow."  Sansa said.

Brienne followed two paces behind, listening but knowing this conversation was not meant for her ears.

King Jon was quiet.  As he usually was.  They were making their way to the Hall.

"We have received ravens that the Northern Lords will be arriving today as well...they will want to see this Wedding, why must it wait Jon?"

Wedding?  Brienne thought.

Surely Bran and Meera were anxious to marry but why would they be leaving?

Brienne thought to the night that Sansa had received two ravens, from Meera's Father and the other from Jon's Brother at the Wall.  

If Lady Sansa wished Brienne to know the contents of the letter she would have told her, she thought.  Brienne tried not to listen as the approached the yard on the way to the Great Hall. 

Brienne looked above as they made their way from the Great Keep towards the Hall.  Only one great shadow in the Winter sky this day.  Brienne wondered if it was the Green Dragon again as she looked at Jon Snow.

Lord Manderly and his party were arriving though the Hunter's Gate.  Brienne had seen some of the first riders from his party last night with their arms of  white merman with dark green hair, beard and tail, carrying a black trident, over a blue-green field.  Their Lord would arrive by carriage today with the majority of his party.  

 

The Starks ahead of her spoke in hushed tones as they entered the Great Hall.

Brienne saw men from House Waynwood and House Royce from the Vale that had apparently rode ahead of their party as well.   House Forrester and House Glover would arrive by the evening, Davos had already made most of the preparations and she knew she would be called upon to see to the yards as an influx of men training would be a result.  

The hall was quieter than it should be as King Jon and Lady Sansa came in.  Brienne heard whispers and the word dragon on the lips of a few.  Word of Jon's encounter was on the lips of his men now, not knowing if they should fear their King or praise his boldness in the face of the beast.

Even the wildlings spoke in hushed tones.  Brienne knew they already thought Jon was a God.  

Lady Alys Karstark was serving food and Brienne gave her a small smile as she took the plate of ham steak and boiled eggs.  

She sat two seats from Lady Sansa and Jon at the head of the Hall, the two Starks were quiet now.  Whatever wedding plans they had been discussing for Lord Bran were quieted as they broke their fast in silence.  

Davos made his way to Jon now and Jon nodded and gave a glance to Brienne.  

"Lady Brienne, would you help Tormund in the yards?  Ser Clegane and Lord Dondarrion will join you evaluating the men from White Harbor and Deepwood Motte?"

Brienne looked to Sansa.

"Lady Sansa will not leave my side on this day.  You can be assured."  Jon said, knowing Brienne was worried of her safety.

Brienne nodded.

The Hound and Tormund she thought with a sigh, at least the Lightning Lord would be amongst them.

Davos ran through some other items preparing the yards and the barracks outside the gates and at Winter Town as the Lords from the Northern Houses would be making their way to Winterfell.

The doors opened.  The Imp walked ahead of the Dragon Queen.  

They had not been in the Great Hall until just now.  Brienne spent the better part of last night outside of the Lord's Chamber where the Starks had met with the Dragon Queen and her advisor.  She wondered if the Queen had convinced King Jon to march South or if he had convinced her to turn her dragons North.

The Queen was beautiful.  There was no denying that.  Queen Cersei Lannister was a great beauty and oft spoken of as the most Beautiful Maiden in the Seven Kingdoms when Brienne was younger.  Even when she had met Cersei at Court at the Wedding of King Joffery the Lannister Queen was surely still among the most beautiful in Westeros.   Then there was Queen Margaery.  Sweet, and gentle, pretty with soft beauty that came from her way more than her looks.  And when Brienne came into the service of Sansa she thought she must be the most beautiful Lady in the Seven Kingdoms...tall and Graceful, ever the lady, her high cheekbones and auburn locks against her fair skin of porcelain accentuated her deep blue Tully eyes.  Grief had given Sansa a haunted, vulnerable look; if anything, it had only made her more beautiful.  

But Queen Daenerys was the Targaryen beauty of legend.  Silver haired and classical Valyrian features, slender frame, fair, and beautiful.  Perhaps it was because these features hardly existed in Westeros any longer that it was so striking to see in the flesh.  The last Targaryen.

Brienne looked at Jon who stood to receive the Queen.

Sansa smiled at her and Lord Tyrion bowed to her.

Whatever they had discussed in Jon's solar it seemed both parties were in agreement.  Some sort of alliance had formed. 

Where the Hall had been quiet before there was a new silence as the Dragon Queen sat with King Jon and Lady Sansa.

Brienne hastily finished her plate and rose.

She eyed Tormund who was across the hall.  He had finished his plate as well although some remnants could be seen in his red beard.  Brienne tried not to roll her eyes at the sight of the Wildling.

"Lady Sansa, I must ask your pardon.  I trust you know where to find me."

Sansa gave Brienne a small smile.

Jon rose.

He came to Brienne's shoulder.  "Thank you, Lady Brienne."  His eyes were sincere.  Brienne trusted him to look after Sansa. 

Brienne looked at the small queen and her even smaller Hand.  

She gave a shallow bow to them. 

"Thank you Brienne.  I shall see you tonight in our chamber."  Sansa said as she gave her a smile.  

Brienne was thankful Sansa saved her from extended pleasantries with the Lannister and Targaryen.  She had not even known what she would have called them.  Your Grace, Your Highness, Lord?  She did not know.  Perhaps Sansa would sort out their titles for her tonight.  She hoped that Sansa meant to return to their regular routine.

As she met Tormund she noticed he had not bothered to wipe his beard.  Brienne felt her eyes roll.

She spoke first as to not give him the chance to say something that would offend her. 

"The Manderly men are already in the yards I am told, might we start with them?" She said.

He nodded.  Brienne noticed he looked back into the serving area of the Great Hall.

Brienne looked back and gave a small smile.

Perhaps Lady Alys did not mind the egg in his beard.

 

 

xxxxxx

 

 

 

They approached the yard and were surprised to see proper Knights sparring.  A few men from the Vale, Lord Royce's men in their shiny armor were engaging in a melee and at least a dozen Manderly men were engaged in various training exercises as well.   Lord Beric Dondarrion was instructing a few of the Forrester men who had only arrived the night prior in a small escort.  Brienne found her lessons failing her for there were far more Northern Houses in attendance at Winterfell than she ever remembered learning from her lessons.

The little Lordling Ned Dayne was sparring with Ser Gregor.  His speed was the only thing that was saving the Dornish boy for the Hound was strong and knew his strength.  Brienne's wound hardly affected his might.

Then she heard it. 

It was as if her private thoughts were on the lips of the men in the yards.

_"He touched the Dragon"_

_"Doesn't look much like a Targaryen though."_

_"Perhaps Lord Eddard forgot his vows with Queen Rhaella."_

Brienne cut her eyes to see the men who had dared whispered those words.

It was a Vale Knight.  Tall and proud but young.  She wondered if he had ever seen a real battle.   From what she had been told the taking of Winterfell was quite easy once the Knights of the Vale had arrived.  Lord Royce had cut through the infantry of the Boltons with his Calvary and made quick work of the Bolton force.

Brienne had wished the Blackfish had offered his troops instead of these bawdy Knights from the Vale.  Lord Royce seemed loyal enough but the Knights were too proud for Brienne's liking. 

Then she heard another whisper. 

A Manderly Man.

_"Aye, I hope he does marry her and takes her dragons.  Might be needing 'em if what they say about the dead is true."_

Brienne looked at Tormund.  It was clear he had heard the whispers too.

"Mannerly Men  With Us!"  She said loudly.  Silencing any further whispers.

"Forresters, Brotherhood, and all else.  Ser Clegane and Lord Beric will run your drills.

The men separated but just as a group of Wildlings turned to fall in with the Hound she heard the whispers again, this time from a Northmen.

_"Only Targaryens can ride dragons, Mayhaps King Jon means to ride 'emself Targaryen!"_

The Freefolk already thought Jon a God.  She did not need the Valemen and the Northmen filling their heads that he was a dragon as well.

Brienne picked up a wooden sword and meant to melee the man into silence but as she picked up the sword she saw The Hound was already swinging at the knight himself, but with his longsword.

"ENOUGH 'BOUT THE BLOODY DRAGONS!"  He yelled as he came at the Knight.

Steel met steel.  Sandor had knocked the man to the ground and he barely could hold his shield up against The Hound's force in response."

Sandor kicked the man down into submission and breathed heavy.

Men whispered.  "I hope he is a bloody Targaryen but if anyone looks it, it's Lady Brienne.  

The yard was hushed.  Men had stopped their whispering.

He took a deep breath and looked around at the yard.  "Now if you wish to gossip and whisper, go to the kitchens with the wenches and maids."  

His greasy hair covered his face as he spun around to face another group of boys that had whispered something about Queen Rhaella earlier.

"If you wish to train.... fall into place and don't speak another bloody word."

Brienne looked at Ser Sandor and gave a nod.

The rest of the afternoon they trained in silence.

 

 

 

xxxxxx

 

 

Brienne changed from her dirty clothes and washed in the basin in their room.  Two serving girls came with figs and honey cakes while she waited for Lady Sansa.

Finally she came into their chamber.  King Jon had escorted her.

They spoke in hushed tones as he bid her goodnight.  Brienne wondered if she heard 'sweetling' come from his lips but perhaps she had heard 'swelling'.

King Jon had joined the training late in the afternoon and Ned Dayne gave him a few knocks with a wooden sword when Jon was demonstrating a technique in the yards.  

Lady Sansa undressed and Brienne looked away.  Brienne was tending her armor that Sansa had made her.  The leather was quite nice and well stitched although she knew Sansa was more proud of the dress she had made her.

Maester Wolkan knocked and set about tending to Sansa's scars and wounds.  Brienne looked on a bit only enough to see that Sansa was quite healed compared to when he first started tending her. 

Sansa slid her shift back over her head.  

"This came this evening, Princess."  the Maester said as he handed her a scroll.

Sansa looked down at the note.

"It came by rider, Your Highness."  He added.

Sansa looked at the note again as did Brienne this time.  Brienne saw nothing unusual with the seal but the handwriting was barely legible.  As if a child had written the note.  

Brienne wondered if this was from Lord Robin and he would press his betrothal to Sansa as Lady Lysa had wanted.

"Thank you, Maester."  She stood and gave a small curtsey.

"I will see you on the 'morrow."

The Maester exited the door.  

It was just Brienne and Sansa now.

Sansa brought the plate of honey cakes to Brienne's bed with the scroll.

"Tell me Brienne.  How was the training yard today."

Sansa gave a small smile and listened as she sat the scroll aside in favor of the cakes.

Brienne enjoyed this time with Sansa.  She wondered if this was what friendship amongst ladies was like.  She had never had any friends growing up, especially no maidens would care to befriend her as awkward as she was.  Her father had tried to bring maidens from other houses in the Stormlands to ward at Evenfall but nonetheless no girl could be convinced to stay when Brienne was in the yards and preferred swords to embroidery.

Lady Margery had always been nice to Brienne when she was in Renly's service but she had never counted Margery as a true friend.  She was a proper Lady and there had perhaps been too much calculation in Margarey's words for Brienne to be to at ease with Lady Margery.

Brienne recounted how Ned Dayne was improving and how many of the Manderly men seemed to be decent swordsmen.  Sansa smiled and ate a honey cake. 

"I know they are in good hands with you Brienne."  Sansa said as she smiled and offered Brienne a honey cake.

Sansa turned her attention to the scroll now and unrolled it.

Brienne saw Sansa's eyebrows raise and tears come to her eyes.

Finally she looked up at her and spoke one word.

_"Arya."_

She said as a single tear fell down her cheek.

 

 

 

XXXX

 

They went to Jon's chamber.

Sansa was pacing and every so often a tear fell down her cheek.

Jon read the note.

He looked at Sansa with his solemn eyes.

He knew the reason Sansa was distressed. Robb had fallen for a Lannister trap.

Sansa rose and began to pace.

"It says she is at Thorren's Square." 

"It says she is with the Blackfish"

The letter's request was simple enough.

Jaime Lannister did not want to be met with death upon his arrival at Winterfell. His safe return of Arya Stark was meant to be a sign of good faith. 

Brienne hoped it was this simple but she understood Sansa's fears. The Lannisters would never earn her trust.

"You cannot go to her Jon." Sansa said. Tears flowed down her cheeks and he drew his hand up to thumb them away. His hand moved slowly on her cheek and Brienne noticed their eyes met in the most intimate way.

When Tormund gave her eye contact such as this she became most uncomfortable and always looked away. 

Brienne raised an eyebrow to this show of affection but neither Jon or Sansa realized her discomfort with their actions.

Sansa calmed herself and then her eyes moved to Brienne.

Brienne felt suddenly aware of the attention on her.

Sansa walked to her.

"You can go to him Brienne."

Sansa looked back at Jon and then refocused her gaze to Brienne.

"I believe you have a special relationship with Ser Jaime"

Brienne looked at Jon who was clearly puzzled. Sansa had not told her brother Brienne's secret. 

Sansa had worked it out herself. Sansa had teased Brienne about Tormund so that Brienne finally told her that she could never love the Wildling for she had loved another."

When Sansa told Brienne that she was sorry about Lord Renly for he had been kind to her in Kings Landing, Brienne could not lie and admitted that although she did love Renly it was not Renly her heart beat for.

Sansa sorted the rest out herself. The story about the sapphire ransom and how Jaime had saved Brienne from a horrible fate was what helped Sansa piece together her secret. She told her that story after Sansa noticed the scar upon her cheek. Brienne thought she was in no position to lie about her scar when she looked upon Sansa's every night. 

Sansa never said she knew it was Ser Jaime but Brienne felt as though Sansa had known. This night confirmed that. Brienne cringed when she heard Sansa say special relationship.

"You must go to her. Bring her here. Bring Jaime and Uncle Brynden here if you believe them true." 

Sansa was smiling now.

"Jaime would never harm you."

Sansa looked at Jon. 

"Arya might be here for the wedding Jon."

Brienne smiled. 

"Yes my Lady" she said.

"I imagine she would like to see Lord Brandon married."

Sansa laughed.

Jon took a heavy breath in. 

Brienne was not sure to make of their differing expressions. 

"It is not Bran's marriage to Meera I am referring to, Brienne."

Brienne raised an eyebrow.

Sansa gave a small smile.

"I am to marry Jon."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really want to finish this before March. I will resume 1-2 chapters a night this week because I just want to finish it for everyone at this point
> 
> Also if anyone wants to help contribute or has any ideas feel free to contact. Would love to hear some thoughts.


	32. A Time for Wolves

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter features multiple POVs all set in WF.

DANY

Daenerys paced in the solar in her guest chamber. Two girls had set a fire that warmed her but she longed to be back in Dorne. This climate did not suit her. What had she agreed to? This was no place for a dragon, she thought as she peered outside and snow flurries came down across the yards of Winterfell.

A knock came at the door. 'Your Grace."

She recognized the voice. Sweet yet strong.

Dany smoothed her dress. Or the dress that had been given to her. One of black. A silver fox stole was also about her shoulders. Princess Sansa had given it to her. Made it for her rather. Red embellishments were about the chest. It was lower cut than Sansa wore herself. Sansa must have noted her gravity towards lower cut dresses. Dany had worn Pentoshi Dresses, Dothraki Leathers, Meereneese silks, and Dornish laces ... why should she not adopt Northerners fur into her wardrobe. At least this woolen gown was functional, she thought as she remembered her ridiculous gown she had suffered to wear in Quarth.

The heavy door opened. "Princess Sansa." Daenerys said with a small smile.

"Come. Sit." Sansa shut the door.

Dany noticed Podrick had escorted her and was now outside the door as it closed. Dany wondered where her Lady Knight was. Perhaps in the yards with the men as she had seen her the day prior.

Sansa crossed the corridor with grace and poise. She took a chair and both the women sat down.

Dany thought how similar she and Sansa truly were. They were meant to be pawns for their brothers to marry off and secure alliances and armies but instead they had seized control in their own right.

"Are you prepared for tonight then?" Dany asked.

Tonight Jon would announce to the Lords and Ladies of the North his intent to marry Sansa.

Sansa gave a small smile.

Courtesy took over Sansa's words, "I hope all goes as planned, Your Grace."

Dany smiled and leaned in. "It will. Or else those Lords will have to answer to Drogon." she said with a smile.

Sansa let out a giggle. It was the first time Dany had seen her laugh she thought.

Dany stood and poured a glass of wine and one for Sansa. She did not ask if she wanted one, she just set it before her and raised the goblet. "You must relax. You and Tyrion have plotted this whole thing. What could go wrong?"

Sansa raised her own and sipped from the cup.

Sansa was so serious she thought. Always calculating and hesitating from a life of trusting the wrong people. A life of betrayal. Her Father, Her Brother, Her Mother, not to mention her marriages. Betrothed to a monster, a sickling, an imp, and a monster. No wonder the girl could not calm her nerves.

"Enough about tonight" Dany said wishing to change the subject.

"Jon Snow" she said as she raised her eyebrow.

Sansa's eyes met Dany at the mention of his name.

"tell me now sweetling, do you love him." she said as she took a sip.

Sansa grew uncomfortable in her chair.

Dany noticed she was smoothing her dress most anxiously at the question. "It is okay Sansa, I am a Targaryen. There is no shame in loving a brother in my family, so a cousin is nothing."

Sansa sipped her wine now.

"It was not like that." she said looking down. "I --- Jon -----" she was at a loss of words.

"I did not love him until we returned to Winterfell...until I cared to know him." Sansa said looking back towards Dany now. Dany realized the truth in her words.

"You see, when I was younger I paid no attention to Jon. My mother kept him away as much as she could and I kept away from the stables and training yards that Jon kept to. Perhaps I was even cruel to him at times, you see my Lord Father never told us Jon's true parentage. Then when I escaped Winterfell and Ramsay I thought Jon the only family that remained to me."

Dany knew that feeling the feeling of being alone in this cruel world.

"Then when the battle was won and Jon was named King, I knew I had to protect him.”

"It was then I started to know Jon, he is a true Knight. He promised to protect me .... a promise he kept when know one else had." Her eyes twinkled with a tear but the Princess did not let it fall. Instead she smiled.

"And then we were here. It was as if we were building the Winterfell of our childhood. I saw in him what I had wished for all along. I was wrought with shame. How could I love my own blood? And then we discovered the truth."

Daenerys thought of Drogo. How at first she could not imagine finding happiness with a horse-lord but he had been her sun and stars. Perhaps the only man she would ever love.

Daenerys listened as Sansa continued "The discovery came as a relief... That was when I knew I loved him, not as a brother. I knew I wanted to make him my husband."

Daenerys smiled. "I see." she said as she reached for Sansa's hand and gave it a small squeeze."

"I loved a man once." Dany felt the smile fade from her face as she looked toward the window.

"I pray that you find the happiness in your marriage that I found in mine for a time." Dany stood.

"Now." She said, wishing to change the subject from her lost love.

"Let us ready ourselves to meet with the Lords of the North."

Sansa rose with Dany, they were not ladies that could spend their days chatting and speaking of Knights and Husbands. They were Queens, Dany thought, they did not have that luxury.

Dany smiled as she leaned towards Sansa "And I shall hope I will not require Drogon during this meeting"

 

XXXXXXXX

 

DAVOS

 

They had gathered in the hall.

More than Lords than he had thought.

Lord Robett Glover of House Glover of Deepwood Motte. Lord Glover sat tall, with a deeply-lined face giving him a serious and stern appearance. Davos noted that he wore mail beneath a red surcoat, and his scarlet cloak is clasped with a silver brooch in the shape of a mailed fist. About him sat men from the clans of the Wolfswood - men of Houses Forester, House Branch, House Woods. Davos thought on Lord Glover. Why he had not pledged his sword to Jon when they had called his banners. He learned that the Greyjoys came first to claim Deepwood Motte and the Starks did not send men to reclaim the hold. Just as they had not reclaimed Winterfell during their march South. Lord Glover's wife and two children were kept alive by Asha Greyjoy but it was not a slight Lord Glover would forget.

 

Then Davos looked upon Lady Meera and her father who had come only a day before, Lord Howland Reed of House Reed of Greywater Watch. They sat next to Lord Bran and his squire Podrick who had taken to the task of toting the boy about in a way that did not attract attention to his condition. Lord Howland was a small man as crannogmen are said to be but Davos knew their size made them smarter in battle. The ironborn garrison of Moat Cailin had been weakened by the guerrilla warfare practiced by Howland's crannogmen and Davos knew a commander that utilized such tactics may prove useful in the future.

Lady Mormont sat close to Podrick. When her eyes met Davos's own he gave her a true smile and bowed.

 

Then he saw Tormund or Lord Karstark as he had been titled. He represented the Freefolk however and next to him his wife, Lady Alys. The pair was quite the striking as their bright red hair caught the attention of the eye. There had been no true wedding but Tormund had stolen her away and if the gossip was true she gave him a bit of a fight for his trouble that resulted in a split lip. Lady Alys was not the gentle maid the Ladies in the South were. She matched Tormund and oft even carried a sword about her waist. Brienne had even commented that she knew how to wield the blade better than most green boys.

Davos looked upon Lord Manderly who was too large to miss as the Lord offered the Onion Knight a hearty smile as was his way.

 

Then at another table were the Northern Houses that had allied with Stannis. These houses had been easy to forgive as Lord Eddard himself had supported Stannis's claim. Torquey Flint, Hugo Wull, Brandon Norrey, and House Liddle all of the mountain clans. Davos knew them to be honorable and they had resigned themselves to accepting the Freefolk at King Jon's insistence.

 

Then the Vale. Lord Royce, Lady Waynwood, and Lord Corbray sat among a handful of their sworn shields.

Then Davos saw him. Lord Baelish. He was a short man of slender build. Davos knew he had no skill with a sword. He noted his sharp features, a small pointed beard on his chin, and dark hair with threads of grey running through the sides. Davos turned away not to give the man any attention.

Then the doors opened. Jon and Sansa came in first. The Lords and Ladies stood for their King.

He escorted Princess Sansa to her place next to him at the dais.

Davos noted how lovely she looked despite the simple wool gown and fox fur about her shoulders. Her red hair in two braids that met into a single braid thrown across the fur. Her eyes pure steel as she looked upon the Lords. She only gave a small smile as her eyes met Lord Bran.

Behind them came the Brotherhood. Jon introduced the Lords.

"Lord Beric Dondarrion of the Blackhaven, Lord Edric Dayne of Starfall, and Ser Sandor Clegane of Clegane's Keep." Their presence was of no surprise for the men had been training in the yards for days with the Brotherhood. Davos did note that Baelish squirmed uncomfortably at the introduction of the Hound.

Then Daenerys and Tyrion entered. Whispers started about the room.  

_Lannister....Imp...._ _Dragon Rider...Mad King..._

The pair took a seat in the front, Daenerys beside Lord Dayne and Tyrion disappeared from Davos's view when he took his place beside the Hound.

The whispers continued.

_Marriage....Alliance...South._

"Quiet.  Jon boomed....we have much to discuss."

 

 

SANSA

 

Jon had almost hissed. It was almost Targaryen, she thought.

She sat tall at the dais. The seat closest to Jon. She peered out. Friends and foes. Lord Glover who had turned her away when she was married to Ramsay, Lyanna Mormont who did not. Lord Baelish who stood in the very corner he had stood in when Jon had been proclaimed King. Sansa recognized his face wore a slight smile. Schemes and plots. He was prepared for this meeting.

She looked upon Jon once more. She did not see a Targaryen as he stood before the Hall. She saw a Stark King. A King of Winter as had been in the Old Days, as Robb had once been she thought. 

Her eyes fell to Jon and steadied her gaze to him. 

"Lords, as we prepare for the Long Night, we must enlist allies from across the Seven Kingdoms."

Sansa saw men stir. 

Whispers began once more.  
Chairs moved.  
Men growled.  
Eyes and glances cast at the Freefolk.

The Jon spoke again.

"I mean to align the North with Queen Daenearys in the South. Her drag ---"

Whispers turned to speaking which turned to yelling.

"Lannister!"

"Targaryen!"

"Bend the Knee"

She heard jeers and yelling erupt from the men about the room.

Sansa cut her eyes to Daenearys who shifted uneasily in her seat and Tyrion who had raised his goblet to his lips. 

Then her eyes met Petyr's, who's sly smile had become a smug grin. This was part of his plan. The whispers were planted and the Knights of the Vale were among the most irate. 

Sansa watched Jon take a deep breath but was surprised when it was not Jon who rose to meet the crowd's displeasure but Tyrion.

He wiped his uncharacteristically dark brown beard from the rather large gulp of ale he had just taken and waddled toward Lord Royce.

The men hushed in this display, perhaps they did not expect much from a dwarf.

"Tell me Lord Royce, how many dragons do you have among your army from the Vale?"

Lord Royce, proudly stood, and started on about how honorable, reliable warriors steeped in honor and bravery like no other Knights in the Seven Kingdoms when Tyrion interrupted him. 

"Yes but how many Dragons did you say you have?" He repeated as he walked back towards the dais.

Sansa looked to Tyrion with a raised eyebrow.

"I'm sure you remember how House Arryn, your leige Lord came to remain in power when Visenya Targaryen rode her dragon to the Vale during Aegon's Conquest?"

Lord Royce did not speak and Sansa knew where Tyrion was leading him with this history lesson.

"Visenya Targaryen rode Vhaegar to the Vale preparing for war. But when the great beast landed the young boy-king Ronnel Arryn surrendered peacefully in exchange for a ride, and no Valemen were able to show ... what was it? ... their warrior strength steeped in honor and bravery and all that."

Lord Royce had sat in his chair by now.

"I imagine Young Robin Arryn would like a ride as well and we can avoid whatever objections you have in a Northern alliance with Queen Daenearys."

Tyrion began to walk back to his seat when a familiar voice came from the shadows of the edge of the room.

"But what of the North. What of the Great War that united the North behind King Snow."

Sansa knew Baelish meant using Snow as a slight to Jon even though he had not taken the name Stark.

"If it was the War against the undead that united the North behind the King then why would he have us march South for a Targaryen conquest."

Sansa heard whispers begin again. Her stomach turned at the words that came from Littlefingers mouth. He meant to make his move here she thought. She was prepared.

"A Southern Crown. Do you mean to marry Queen Daenearys and claim the Iron Throne, then, King Jon?

The whispers turned to mumbles. The shuffling of chairs started once more. Men believing what Petyr was saying. Sansa sat calm in her place. Ice running through her veins.

Now Petyr was addressing the crowd himself .... would he have us marching South leaving the North unprotected from the undead that lay beyond the wall!?"

Some Valemen had come to their feet.

Petyr walked rather arrogantly towards the front of the crowd where Tyrion had been. 

"Perhaps it is true .... You are a Targaryen after all ... Petyr looked at Sansa for but a moment and then directed his address back to the Lords and men. 

"a marriage to Daenearys would be the Targaryen way, I suppose."

Sansa looked to Jon and gave a nod.

Jon rose from his chair. He stood tall among his men. He looked to Dany who gave the slightest of smiles.

"Lord Baelish, your assumption is correct. I am half Targaryen."

Where men had been boisterous before the uproar Sansa witnessed was unexpected. Men were at their feet until Littlefinger opened his mouth once more.

"So you do not deny that you mean to marry the Targaryen Princess and march South?"

Sansa knew Petyr had overplayed his hand. The ravens she had been sending to Theon after Dany's arrival were surely shot down by Littlefinger's men. All lies that Theon was well aware of...Jon never meant to marry Dany or march for the Iron Throne, Sansa did not love Petyr as the letters had indicated wishing only for a way to reclaim Winterfell. 

Sansa wished she could smile at how well her plan was working. How Baelish was playing into her trap.

There was a new silence in the hall.

Jon still at his feet called for Podrick. The squire produced the bundle that Sansa had placed back into her Lord Father's crypt the night after it's discovery.

Jon placed the bundle on the table and unfolded the cloak. A few gasps were heard when they saw the marriage cloak. The Targaryen marriage cloak. Surely they thought Jon meant to marry Daenearys on this day.

"Lord Royce, would you please remove the contents."

Lord Royce proudly stood to his feet and came to the table. His eyes met Littlefinger's as he approached the cloak.

"Lord Royce, you knew Eddard Stark when he was a Ward at the Eyrie, did you not?"

Lord Royce's eyes were focused on the two crowns Sansa could see and barely acknowledged Jon.

Without taking his eyes from the contents he mumbled - "yes...YES"

He looked to Jon now. "Yes I knew Eddard Stark as a boy."

"Aye My Lord, and when Eddard Stark became Warden of the North you oft would correspond with him... I believe you even made arrangements to stay at Winterfell when you escorted your son to the Wall when he took the Black."

Lord Royce nodded once more. "Yes, I had written to him and he agreed for us to stay as guests, he knew the Wall always needed good men."

Jon nodded.

"Then you know his hand?"

Lord Royce looked to the scroll now.

He nodded as he reached for the parchment.

Sansa noticed his hands shaking.

The hall was quiet.

Lord Royce read the scroll in silence. Lord Royce's mouth agape he bowed to Jon.

"My King."

The whispers began again.

Jon nodded to Lord Royce - "My Lord, I ask you to tell our bannermen the contents."

Lord Royce nodded rather shaken and did as he was bid.

Sansa saw Petyr from the corner of her eye. He did not look nearly as smug as before.

"It says that Jon Snow is Lyanna Stark's son."

Once more the whispers turned to a thrum of voices. 

"It says Lyanna Stark was married to Rhaegar Targaryen and that Jon Snow is the true born son and rightful King of Westeros."

The hall began to clamor with jeers and confusion. 

"It is all right here" said Lord Royce who was clearly shaken at this news. "Tis the marriage cloak and the Targaryen Crown" he said as he raised the Valyrian Steel Crown inset with large rubies for all to see.

There were gasps as men set eyes among Aegon the Conqueror's own crown.

Jon stood and again there was silence.

"Thank you Lord Royce." he said as he bid the old Knight to be seated once more.

"Lord Reed. You were among Lord Eddard's companions at the Tower of Joy."

The small crangoman stood to address the room.

"Yes, Your Grace."

Jon gave Lord Reed a small smile.

"If it pleases my Lord would you tell us the events of that day?"

Sansa watched as Howland Reed took a ragged breath. 

"We were young. The war was almost won and Lord Eddard still had not liberated his sister, The Lady Lyanna."

Sansa saw many of the men nod, they knew the story that had been told for years. The tale where Eddard Stark and his brave companions defeated the Kingsguard only to find Lyanna dead.

"We rode to Dorne and discovered that Lady Lyanna was being held at the Tower of Joy, guarded by Ser Arthur Dayne, Ser Oswell Whent, and Lord Commander Gerold Hightower of the Kingsguard."

Sansa noticed that Lord Reed gave a glance towards Ned Dayne when recounting the story but continued nonetheless.

"We fought them, I was wounded by Ser Arthur Dayne, Sword of the Morning and was thought dead by the Kingsguard. Lord Willam Dustin, Ethan Glover, Martyn Cassel, Theo Wull, and Ser Mark Roswell all fell at the hands of the Kingsguard but Ser Whent and Ser Hightower had also been killed in the battle."

Lord Reed spoke in a hushed tone but the room was quiet for everyone had heard of the tale but never from the survivors themselves.

"Ned Stark and Ser Dayne were the last men at arms and when Arthur Dayne had almost defeated Ned I found the strength to drive my sword into Ser Dayne from behind. Killing him."

There were a few gasps with that and Sansa saw Ned Dayne's head fall with Howland Reed's account.

Lord Reed continued despite having to recount the dishonor of killing a man from behind.

"Ned ran up to the highest room of the Tower only to find the Lady Lyanna in a bed of blood."

Sansa saw Lady Waynwood's hand come to her mouth with shock.

Rowland looked at Jon now.

"But it was there he found you. Lyanna bid Ned to make a promise - a promise for your safety, for if Robert had discovered you, he would have surely had you killed. He hated anyone with a drop of Targaryen blood and Ned knew this well. So he promised his sister and took you as his bastard to keep you safe."

Sansa felt a small tear in her eye but did not let it shed. Sansa looked at Jon, her love, her betrothed. He had not known the full account either. She wished to hold him at this moment but the time was not right. Soon, she thought. 

She focused on the hall once more. The room was silent, the information had stunned the once spirited hall.

"Thank you, my Lord." Jon said breaking the silence.

Littlefinger stirred once more, taking his opportunity.

"So you mean to march South and claim the Iron Throne .... as the true born son of Prince Rhaegar Targaryen, My King?"

Sansa hated the way "My King" came from Littlefinger's lips. 

Tyrion stood and his short legs moved to be in front of the hall once more. 

"What would you have Your King do then Lord Baelish?"

Petyr had not anticipated Tyrion meddling in these affairs but it did not deter him from his path.

"Perhaps if King Jon wishes to wed Daenearys and march South he should lay down his claim to the North. Let Lord Bran or Lady Sansa both Stark in name inherit their brother, King Robb's title."

Petyr had regained his confidence and was walking towards Tyrion now.

"Perhaps those loyal to Jon may march with him South, but the North is only just being rebuilt."

Sansa saw Baelish's eyes search her own. Looking for approval.

"Aye, Lord Baelish." Jon said.

Baelish looked smug and satisfied - he was so close to getting what he wanted. He wanted Sansa named Wardeness of the North. He saw her as his route to power. How wrong he was, she had moved him perfectly.

"Only you have sights on the Iron Throne and marching South, I know my place is in the North." Jon said, firmly.

"I have no interest in reclaiming Prince Rhaegar's throne but I shall take your advice and take the name Stark."

Sansa saw Littlefinger raise his eyebrow, his lips agape, unsure of Jon's meaning.

Jon looked to Daenearys and then Jon's eyes met her own.

"I mean to see my Aunt, Queen Daenearys of House Targaryen sit the Iron Throne, a Targaryen I may be but it is not a name I wish to hold."

Jon was staring at Sansa now. Sansa felt heat come to her cheeks with the weight of his focus.

He smiled a smile only she could see and then faced the Lords once more.

"I mean to take the name of my betrothed, Sansa Stark, my cousin, and true born daughter of Lord Eddard Stark, Warden of the North."

Sansa saw a gamut of emotions on the faces of the Lords in the Great Hall. The hushed voices whispered again.

"I will remain here in my family's seat and rule as the King in the North, with Sansa as my Queen."

Then, just as it had been before, Lord Manderly initiated the familiar cheer. 

"The King in the North. The King in the North." boomed in the Hall.

Jon retrieved the crown of Winter roses and started towards Sansa. 

She gave him a small smile as he gently placed the crown onto her head.

"Queen of the North." He whispered as if they were the only two in the room.

They faced the Hall and he slipped his hand into hers.

Sansa felt butterflies in her chest. Her planned had worked. She looked at Daenearys who had a tear stream down her cheek, for Daenearys knew Sansa loved Jon. Sansa gave the Targaryen Queen a smile and a nod. 

Tyrion raised his goblet and took a sip. He had gotten what he wanted. Daenearys need not worry about Jon's claim if he took the name Stark. Sansa need not worry about losing Winterfell or Jon to the South. She nodded to him with a small smile.

Pod had pulled Bran to his feet. Meera stood with her Father and held him about the crook of his elbow. She smiled at the family of Reeds.

Jon gave Sansa's hand a small squeeze to regain her attention. 

As her eyes met his he leaned into her and gave her a chaste kiss. 

Cheers erupted. Clapping and clanking of goblets could be heard.

When she took her glance from Jon to the Lords of the Hall once more it was then she realized he was gone.

Petyr was gone.

TYRION

 

He remembered he had once thought that Lady Sansa would have made his nephew a good wife if he had only had the sense to love her. Or at least had been courteous towards her. Joffery had been a fool and although he did not kill him he was glad that Olenna had. 

He was not positive it had been the Queen of Throns but who else could it have been. Tommen made a much better husband for Margarey. So young and trusting. It was the same reason his Lord Father, Tywin preferred Tommen to Joffery. He knew Tywin had not killed Joff though - Tywin favored having a spare heir which Tyrion had reasoned rather early in his life was the only reason his Father had permitted him to live.

He looked at Lady Sansa once more and when her eyes met hers he reached his small hands and wrapped his sausage like fingers around his goblet and raised his cup to her and her happiness.

Jon Stark, King in the North. It sounded as it was meant all along. 

Queen Sansa Stark. That was a name she was always destined for.

Tyrion saw Lord Baelish shuffle out to the hall. The cheers of the crowd and the commotion of the men standing made it easy for him to slip away. Tyrion had a different angle than most men and saw Littlefinger make his way out of the Hall.

Tyrion made haste but did not attract attention away from Sansa or Jon. This was their moment, he thought, she deserved this.

Tyrion had had more than enough time in Winterfell and because nobody cared to speak to the Lannister dwarf he spent his days walking the halls and grounds of Winterfell more than he ever thought he would and positioned himself between Littlefinger and the stable and when Baelish rounded the laughed at the sight of the Imp and pulled a dagger from his belt.

"You are no Brandon Stark, Tyrion. Perhaps Cersei will even thank me when I deliver her your head."

Tyrion began to regret the courage his cups had given him. The cheers were too loud, there was no one to hear his plea even if he wanted to call for help.

He would have to talk his way out of this, he had found himself in worse situations he thought.

"Why Lord Baelish, I do not think you want to do that."

Littlefinger dropped his dagger much to Tyrion's surprise. Then he saw Baelish's eyes track up behind him.

Then Tyrion heard a sword unsheathe. Someone had emerged from the stable to defend him. Tyrion turned to see who his savior had been, Pod maybe, he thought. When he looked up he saw a familiar face glaring back at him and took a deep breath in. 

It was not Pod.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know this has been a super slow burn but I like how realistic it is rather than throwing Jon and Sansa together. If you have any ideas or are hoping to see anything in particular from this story please let me know soon. I will only be putting in a few more chapters in this series.


	33. Hear Me Roar

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lannister POVs

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Check back to the last chapter to make sure you're up to date. 
> 
> I added multiple POVs for one chapter rather than adding a new chapter each time I added content so last chapter has a good deal more than what it started with. 
> 
> This is a Lannister only POV chapter.

JAIME

 

"Do not worry brother, I shall deal with you later."

Jaime saw the look of relief come across his brother's face and fear come across the face of Lord Baelish.

"Tell me Lord Baelish, when my Father gave you Harrenhall and you were named Lord Protector of the Vale, was that not enough for you?"

Jaime looked down at his golden hand. He did not need his sword hand to defeat Petyr Baelish. He was a slight man who knew from a young age that swordsmanship would never aide him in his quest for power. He did not need a sharp blade only a sharp mind. How he must regret that decision at times like this.

"No it wouldn't be would it? I imagine you meant to sit the Iron Throne. "I imagine you always thought Catelyn Tully would be sitting next to you though, it was so easy for you to put that dagger to Ned's throat wasn't it?"

Tyrion looked back at him now. He knew he was not there.

"Cersei talks when she is in her cups."

Jaime took a sigh thinking of their sister.

"And of late she is always in her cups. Schemes and plots, motives and motivations, all the whispers and secrets of the Seven Kingdoms that made their way into Kings Landing fell onto her ears and then her lips. I imagine I am not the only one that knows you conspired against both Ned and Robb Stark. Surely I am not the only man who suspects the rather untimely death of Lysa Tully is not....suspicious."

Jaime looked around Winterfell now. It was not as he remembered. The Greyjoys and Boltons occupation had taken its toll.

"I imagine Sansa Stark would have been a suitable replacement for Catelyn."

Baelish looked up to him now. His narrow eyes squinted at him with disdain.

"Sansa was a prize, even my Father knew that when he married her off to Tyrion. Shame he couldn't have made the girl love him." 

Tyrion looked back at him now and took a deep breath. 

"Curious why you sold her off to the Boltons though, did you mean to rescue her but arrived to late? Her bastard brother did that for you and won her affection in the process I am told."

Baelish cut his eyes to Jaime now.

There was still no one else about the yard. Jaime knew he would hear some sort of bribe laced plea. Littlefinger opened his mouth and was not incorrect.

"Ahh you seem to know so much Ser Jaime. But I know secrets Cersei only wishes she knew. Perhaps she might like to know the whereabouts of her only living son?"

"A trick." Tyrion said near immediately.

Jaime hushed his brother and stepped closer to Littlefinger.

"Not yours of course, No Ser Jaime, I'm afraid all of your Baratheon bastards are indeed dead."

Jaime drew his sword now. The blade angled at Baelish's throat.

"Cersei Lannister has grown rather reckless has she not? No children to protect. Revenge her only motivation for waking up in the morning I imagine."

Jaime looked into Baelish's dark eyes. Disgusted. 

"But you knew of that son didn't you Ser Jaime. Tried to hide him away in flea bottom."

Jaime's heart sank.

"I'm sure paying for his apprenticeship made you sleep better at night."

Jaime sheathed his sword. 

"I believe they call him "Gen -"

And with that Jaime knocked him out with his golden hand.

He looked back at his brother. 

"I do grow tired of men that cannot fight running their mouths when they feel they are in danger. It is why I stopped traveling with you brother."

Tyrion was clearly still wondering what Littlefinger had intended to say and Jaime did not mean to have those words reach his brother's ears.

"Come now. Help me with his feet."

Jaime grabbed Baelish by his torso and began to drag him towards the stable.

"We must bring him to Arya Stark to see what she wants done with him."

Tyrion grabbed Baelish by the feet and said "you mean Sansa Stark."

Jaime gave him a smile. 

"No, he means Arya Stark." a mousy voice said. 

Tyrion dropped Baelish's feet at the sight of her. Jaime laid down Baelish's torso for her to look over and bowed as he got out of her way.

Brienne and the Blackfish watched the girl as she inspected Littlefinger's motionless body. She poked him twice with the toe of her boot and Jaime couldn't tell if whether or not she was dissatisfied Baelish was still breathing.

 

CERSEI

 

She smiled as they were paraded through the streets of Kings Landing. The crowd enjoyed their defeat as well. How quickly the crowd would turn on you Cersei thought. Only a short time ago they were yelling at her in the same way. Jeering and mocking her as she walked naked down the streets of the Capital.

Not now. 

Now she sat proud watching her enemies walk to meet their fate.

Yara was first. Chained to a horse ridden by Euron. She was bloody but stood tall in the wake of her defeat. 

Cersei had been told that Yara had wrecked her own ship into one of Euron's fleet to stave off the attack. This allowed Yara to be captured but also to save her brother and the rest of the Targaryen fleet to retreat. They suffered a loss but if not for Yara's sacrifice Euron would have defeated the entirety of the Targaryen fleet. 

Cersei regretted that Olenna Tyrell had not been among the ones captured. The Old Rose was tucked away safely at the Water Gardens or some Dornish hold. Cersei had heard that her grandson had made it there was well due to either Jaime's incompetence or good nature, she was not sure which.

A smile emerged from Cersei's lips as she saw the next prisoners Euron had brought her.

Sand Snakes.

One of Oberyn's daughters was chained behind a Greyjoy horse. Obara, was her name if Cersei remembered correctly. The crowd yelled their insults at her as she walked by and the girl only smiled. Enraged that she only laughed at their insults they began to throw food and whatever they could find at the girl. She caught a piece of bread that had been thrown at her by the common folk and ate it as she laughed.

Behind her was Ellaria. The woman who had killed Myrcella. Cersei's hand clenched into a fist at the sight of her. 

Ellaria wore hardly any clothes at all and smiled as the crowd taunted her. Calling her a whore only made her laugh.

She would not be laughing long, Cersei thought.

 

TYRION

 

Tyrion always thought the Blackfish was a curious fellow. He wondered if things had been different and Jaime had not sworn to the Kingsguard would his fate have been similar to that of Brynden Tully. A second son who did not take the black. He could have married but what good would that have been to his wife. Never to inherit Riverrun. Always to be in his brother's shadow. 

Tyrion examined Brynden Tully as he helped some of the Tully and Lannister men that had accompanied them see to their horses. 

Brynden is tall and lean with strong shoulders that Tyrion could see even with chainmail and his cloak covering him. He was a man of few words Tyrion could tell but when he spoke he did so with a hoarse, smoky voice. He is clean-shaved, and his face is craggy and windburnt, his features are lined and weathered. He must be a man of sixty and five but stood as tall and strong as a man of forty and five. His once-auburn hair has gone to grey and he had bushy eyebrows that only made his Tully bright blue eyes seem brighter. Tyrion recognized those eyes. They were the same as had been on Catelyn Tully and that she had passed on to her daughter Sansa.

Tyrion's attentions moved to Arya. Quite different than when he had last seen her. He supposed he looked different as well with his nose missing and his attempt to cover his ugly and scarred face with a beard made him look less than Lannister as it was mostly brown in color. He rather liked that his blonde Lannister hair he shared with his siblings did not find its way to his facial hair.

Arya was a little Lady now, even if she tried to deny it by wearing riding breeches and boots. Her hair was pulled back into a braid he noticed was the same braid that Sansa had favored of late. two plaits tied back that met into one that laid upon her shoulders. Her hair was not as long as Sansa's was, it only fell to barely below her shoulders. Her hair was dark brown as Eddard Stark's had been and her eyes matched her Lord Father's as well. She was small, slender, but more womanly than she would have liked to admit. She must be ten and six by now. A woman grown even if she did not act as such.

"Well Lord Tyrion, I hear you saved me the trouble of killing your Father." she finally said to him when she had seen her travel party to the barracks. He followed her now. She was making her way to the Great Hall where he could still hear a celebration was going on. He was a bit put off that still no one had noticed his absence or cared enough to find him. Perhaps he should not be upset, he was after all, used to being small and overlooked.

"Yes." Tyrion said in a tone that suggested he did not care. Which he did not.

"I used a crossbow." he said when she looked at him and raised her rather full eyebrows. Like her uncle her eyebrows only made the color of her eyes more striking, unlike her uncle however her eyebrows were not as bushy and rather suited her what Tyrion thought, now that he had had time to study it, was a rather pretty face, not unlike what he had heard Lyanna Stark had looked like now that he thought on it. 

"You see he meant to let my sister kill me, and then I found a whore I thought I loved in his bed." 

Arya did not speak.

"It was the only thing to do when Jaime set me free from the dungeons...really."

Arya walked towards the hall and Tyrion Jaime and Brienne emerge from what he thought was the chicken coop. He noticed Brienne looking at her brother in a rather odd way. He would have to sort that detail later because Arya was asking him another question he only half had paid attention to. He heard 'Dragon Queen' and inferred the rest.

"Yes, yes. Queen Daenearys. I imagine you would like her, she wears boots too." he said as they made their way into the hall flanked by Lord Brynden, Brienne and Jaime.

 

The doors opened. The scene was much of the same as when he had left. Pod had Lord Bran's arm about his neck and held him in a way that Tyrion barely noticed his legs were of no use. Pod surely was much stronger than when he was his squire in Kings Landing. 

As eyes moved to the doors a hush fell upon the crowd. 

Finally Jon and Sansa set eyes upon their sister.

Sansa stood. Her nose twitched fighting a tear as a small smile overcame her face. Tyrion thought he saw a tear in King Jon's eye..... or maybe the tear was in his eye, he thought.

Sansa moved to Arya, slowly as if she did not trust her own eyes as to what she was seeing. Tyrion saw Jon stand now, giving his sister and his betrothed the moment to themselves.

The hall was silent as Sansa finally stood in front of her own sister.

"Arya" Sansa whispered. Still in disbelief that the sister she thought she lost was now in front of her eyes.

Sansa stood nearly a foot taller than Arya. Arya looked up at her sister now and a smile slipped from her lips.

"I'm surprised you didn't call me Horse-Face" she whispered back.

Arya laughed.

Sansa let a tear fall as she laughed and with that she picked up her sister into a hug she could not escape.

The crowd cheered once more. Someone handed Tyrion a cup of ale for which he was most thankful for, and he looked back at Jaime who clearly did not know what to do. 

Arya was still in Sansa's arms and no one cared to remark that the Kingslayer was in their presence. Tyrion reached up and managed to hit his brother at his elbow. 

"Cheer up brother. It is a celebration. My wife is marrying her bastard brother." he said as he finished his tankard.

"Come, meet the Mother of Dragons who wishes to kill our sister."

Jaime looked at him. He was not amused.


	34. Jon

Jon looked up at the night sky from his chamber window. It was black and clear. He could see the stars he had learnt as a boy from Maester Luwin - he had learned the names of the twelve houses of heaven and the rulers of each; he could find the Shadow Cat and the Moonmaid, and the Sword of the Morning in the night's sky.

Jon saw his breath in the moonlight and the chill made him feel alive on this night. He felt her chin rest on his bare shoulder and her arms embrace him round his chest. She smelled of lavender and perhaps a bit of wine on this night. She pressed her nose into his neck and then her lips came to his cheek. He felt alive for another reason now.  

Her hair flowed loose from her braids and tickled him as strands fell upon him with her embrace.  She was in just her shift and the dim firelight from his hearth outlined her body in such a way that Jon thought he could not control himself on this night.  

 _My Lady._ Jon said as he turned to her, his back facing the window.  You sneak into my chambers and men will talk.  

"What would they say?  We are betrothed and you are King.  I see no reason to talk."

Jon smiled at his betrothed and with that he moved his hands to Sansa's hips and stole a chaste kiss.

"Aye.  We have waited so long.  Mayhaps on this night we can give them a reason to whisper."

Sansa gave a giggle as he turned her toward the window placing himself behind her.  He moved his left hand up to her hand tracing her body as he went.  He kissed her neck as he directed her finger to the Night's sky.

"Do you remember your lessons?" He said pointing to the Smith.

He kissed her neck waiting for her answer.

"The Red Wanderer, associated with the Smith in the Faith of the Seven."  She said as she shifted away from his kiss, ticklish Jon supposed.  

"And this one?" he said as he traced another constellation in the sky that surrounded the Red Wanderer.

He pushed her hair back from her neck and shoulders and smoothed it as he kissed her shoulder where her shift began he awaited her response.

"The Moonmaiden"  she said turning toward him, denying him his advances.

"Aye Sansa.  The Freefolk call the Smith the Thief."

She looked to the sky once more.  

"When the Red Wanderer visible within the constellation of the Moonmaiden it is a good time to steal a woman."  He said as he began to undo the laces of the shift.

She turned to him and pulled his hands from the laces.

He was in his night shirt and small clothes and his excitement would have been apparent if Sansa had but looked down. 

"Do you mean to steal me?" she whispered.

He placed a hand on her cheek and nodded yes as he moved to kiss her.

Sansa giggled once more and turned from his kiss.  

Jon did not understand.  

Sansa took a step back to Jon's surprise.

"You helped me kill my last husband and proposed marriage to me in front of my first husband, Jon..." giggling a bit more.

He searched her face in confusion.  

"I'd say you've already stolen me."  She finally said through the laughter.  The best Jon could do was to smile in embarrassment.

"Enough talk of stealing me Jon Snow.  Not on this night."  Our time will come she said as she put her lips to his once more. 

"I did not come here for that.  Not tonight."

Jon sought to hide his excitement and made his way to his wardrobe finding his night shirt.

"Why do you tease me so?"  

Sansa smiled at him as she followed him sitting on his bed.  

Perhaps he was foolish then or perhaps he was too eager now.  Forgetting his honor. 

"Aye, My Lady.  I shall wait until we are wed."  He said as he sat beside her and kissed her cheek.

 "Now my love, tell me why you have snuck into my chambers if it is not to have your way with me?"

Sansa smiled.  

"Arya."  She said as she looked down.

Jon raised an eyebrow.

"You will want to speak to her on the morrow.  She has acquired certain skills beyond swordplay Jon - she - she"

Jon laughed.  "Arya learned to survive, of course she learned to use a sword.  Perhaps a crossbow too?"

Sansa furrowed her brow at this.

"No Jon.  She - She - It is beyond that.  She was the assassin in the Riverlands."

Jon did not know what to think on this.

"She can wear faces.  A lesson she learned in Braavos."

Jon knew he was staring blankly back at her now.

"She can show you, she showed me."

Jon knew of the Faceless Men of Braavos.  Hired assassins he thought, hardly believing they could actually steal the faces to discard their identity.  Certainly that would have helped the daughter of Ned Stark survive all this time.

"Arya can wear the face of another?"  He said finally.

"Yes.  She wishes to talk to you, she wants to help.  She wants to use this to fight for the North." Sansa said.

Jon looked down.  He did not know what to think.

"You could use her skills Jon, to kill Cersei, help kill your enemies without marching into battles."

Jon raised an eyebrow.

 

"You would have me send your sister to Kings Landing?  A place you hate with all your heart to fight for a throne I have no interest in?"

Sansa shrugged with that.   

"Arya also brings with her the Kingslayer and the Red Woman.  Political problems you will have to navigate in the coming days I imagine."

Again Sansa shrugged and simply stated that "If they pledge for the North I don't see why not accept them into your service."

Jon raised an eyebrow.

"You think Davos will feel that way?  You yourself watched as I sent her away never to return, you knew how hard it was for me but how it was necessary and you would have me welcome her once more to Winterfell?"

Sansa smoothed her shift rather anxiously now. 

"But the Blackfish and the Tully men, surely you can see the benefit in their alliance."

"Aye Sansa.  If only they had come when you asked.  That way we would not have had the Lords of the Vale coming to your aide and Littlefinger asking for your favor all this time."

Sansa looked down again.  He did not understand her on this night.  Surely she had already thought on the political implications of Arya's travel party.  How they had only just allied with Tyrion and Daenearys and that the alliance of the Kingslayer may not sit well with the other Lords whilst Cersei sits the Iron Throne.

Jon placed his hand on Sansa's.  

"Do not worry Sansa.  Enjoy this moment."

Sansa looked up at him now. 

"Remember when we recaptured Winterfell.  You had never given up on Bran and Arya returning to us.  You said you wished they would come back and you would have them all the Starks in Bran's giant bed once more as it was when you were younger."

Jon looked at her again.

Sansa had a small tear in her eye.

"I am surprised you are not in bed with Arya on this night.  You missed her so, I would have thought you would not let her from your sight."

The tear came down Sansa's cheek now.

Jon meant to comfort her, and moved his thumb on her hand in a small circle to distract her from her tears.  

"I will speak to Arya on the morrow.  She only just returned to us, I do not mean to send her away."

Sansa squeezed Jon's hand and let go from his clasp.

"No need to speak to Arya tomorrow."  She said.

Jon was confused once more.

Sansa turned towards the window and when she turned back to him, it was Arya's face he looked upon, not Sansa's.

 


	35. Winter is Coming

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note for 26 APRIL : WILL EDIT TONIGHT. 
> 
> Random chapter that I'm just rolling with. I have some free time and hope to post two more chapters this week.
> 
> Also because I saw Arya with a random serving girl face and Jquen Hagar use Arya's face I'm going off the assumption that the FM can somehow glamour or use faces of people that they have not killed. 
> 
> I find it hard to believe that Arya would straight kill a serving girl just to get her face.

DANY

 

She looked upon them in the hall.  They were seated next to each other but did not speak.  Awkward she thought.  She taller than him but only by an inch or two.

They loved each other that was clear but perhaps they did not say it yet.  Her eyes would gaze upon him when he was not looking and then when his head turned in her direction, her eyes moved downward, focusing on her plate or her fork.

He made an attempt to speak.  He was handsome.  Surely he had affections from someone other than his sister she thought.  Even a serving girl must have gave him longing glances at some point. But he was raised to be a knight and honorable even if he did not want to be such a thing.  His Lord Father had been an important man in the Seven Kingdoms, she had heard, and even though he took a vow of celibacy, forsaking any lands he had perhaps been destined to inherit his Lord Father had prepared him for greater things...his education, his training, it was clear he knew how to be an honorable Knight...but alas, Dany thought, perhaps courtship is hard even for a brave knight as comely as he was.

She was a lady, despite whatever title she held now.  Nobody knew really what to call her so some just ventured with Lady.  She was nice and educated and accepted that title just as well.  Just as her admirer's father  had prepared him for greatness her Father had tried to educate her and prepare her to marry a young lordling that would make a good match. But despite this she fell in love with the Baratheon boy instead and Dany was told and she would have followed him anywhere.  He led her to war and never married her - instead married Margery Tyrell for her family's money and power in the Reach.  But the would be Baratheon King was not her type and never could have loved her and it did not matter for the Baratheon 'King' died long before Dany stepped foot in Westeros.

She watched the interaction a bit longer before she was interrupted by Tyrion who had noticed her attentions on the couple.

"Do you wish to marry or kill my brother?"  he said.  Dany turned her attentions away from he Kingslayer and the Lady Knight Brienne.

"I have not decided yet."  She said she focused on her Hand.

That was not entirely true.  She had decided she did not want to kill him.  She realized this long ago when she came to learn her Father's true nature.  It was not by accident he was called 'The Mad King'.   Everyone had danced around the subject with her...saving her feelings perhaps but ultimately making her ignorant of the facts.  Ser Barristan had focused on her brother Rhaegar, saying how valiant and good Rhaegar was - how great a King he would have made.  How he loved his harp and loved to sing to the common folk.  

Viserys had lied to her.  He had not known their father, not really.  He was a Prince who was spoiled and shielded from their Father - first by their mother and then by their hosts in the Free Cities.  Illyrio had lied to him - for his own gain - wrapping the 'Beggar King' Viserys around his finger - only telling him what he wanted to hear.  

He told them that the common folk wished for a Targaryen King once more that they said prayers for the return of the Targaryen Dynasty - how all the houses would welcome him home to Westeros.

Dany had not found this to be true.  The common folk were tired of War.  The War of the Five Kings had destroyed any type of peace that had come to the land during Robert Baratheon's rule.  Nearly every noble house also faced ruin as many of their heirs had died in the fighting.  Entire lines were likely to be destroyed.  

Olenna had not lied to her.  She knew the 'Queen of Thorns' was telling the truth.  

Why would she not? She barely had anything to lose.  The death of her favorite grandchild Margery had been hard on her and the old woman felt no need to sugar coat anything when speaking with Dany.  

"Your father was mad" she had told her.  A fact.  Nothing more.

She did not stop there and continued on about the rest of her family....and anyone who had ever thought to sit the Iron Throne at that.

Her brother Rhaegar would have been a good King until he stole Lyanna Stark for whatever reason.  Robert Baratheon was not a bad king but not a great one.  He was a fat drunk that had one true love - that was fighting - or perhaps whoring Olenna said, correcting herself.  

The common folk did not care about anything except if their lands were safe and if they would be having another meal.  Stability is what the common folk craved - not, as Olenna had put it - "who's ass sat upon that great monstrosity of a throne."

Olenna gave her perspective on the Lannisters as well.  Tyrion, who was too smart for his own good - "when he is sober I imagine he is quite useful", she had said.  

"Cersei thinks she's smarter than she actually is --- and now she's just as much of a drunk as her former husband."  

When Olenna moved on to speaking of Jaime Lannister she paused.  Perhaps she had not thought of him with any type of clarity.  

"Jaime is ... " she said.

She remembered Olenna looked away from her, searching for her own thoughts

"Jaime is loyal to those he loves."

Olenna looked her in the eyes again.  

"Shame he was not a Targaryen and he would have had the right to be bedding his sister every chance he got."

Dany scoffed at this remark.  She remembered Viserys and how she could have never loved him.  She was somewhat confused by that idea that Targaryens were meant to marry each other but if it was somehow tied to their ability to ride dragons, perhaps marrying a brother ... or nephew ... would have been an option for her.

Dany brought her attentions away from Jaime and her focused on Tyrion now.

He handed her a small scroll with his stubby fingers.  With the excitement of the evening Dany had neglected any correspondence that had arrived for her at Winterfell the last two days.  

Only a handful of people knew her location so only they would write to her.  Olenna being one - her trip North had lasted nearly fortnight and she knew she needed to return to Dorne sooner rather than later.  Perhaps her fleet and armies were getting restless.

The seal she did not recognize as she took the scroll as she looked at Tyrion.

"Theon Greyjoy."

Dany was somewhat confused.  Yara, not Theon should have been writing her.

Dany read the scroll and her heart sank.

"We must go to them."

 

xxxxxx

 

Sansa

 

Sansa stirred in her feather bed but did not wake.  Not fully.  She did not want this to be a dream.

She spent the night talking with Arya as they used to, together in one bed telling secrets and giggling until their eyes grew to heavy to open and Sansa had fallen asleep with her little sister tucked in her arms.

As Sansa slowly blinked her eyes open she felt the coolness of her bed.  She was alone.

Perhaps Arya was letting her rest and had gone to the Hall to break her fast alone.  It would not surprise Sansa that she did not wake her.  Arya had always been sneaky and her size helped her be stealthy.  She remembered once, when they were younger in Winterfell, Arya had been stealing Lemon cakes from the kitchens.  Their Lady Mother knew Lemon Cakes had been Sansa's favorite sweet and when the Lemon Cakes began to disappear their mother grew suspicious of Sansa.  

Arya knew this was Sansa's favorite treat and her stealing them from the kitchen's served her two fold.  First she knew Sansa would be blamed and secondly, there was not Lemoncakes for Sansa to eat when she _was_ allowed a treat for Arya had stolen them all.  Catelyn would not believe Sansa until Sansa finally employed Robb to spy on the kitchens and he discovered Arya sneaking away an entire tray of the Lemoncakes one evening to the stable.  She had taken them into the town and given them to Micah and Rory for their families and some townsfolk in Winter Town.  

Sansa remembered that Robb had told on Arya to their Lady Mother who was hardly mad at Arya at all.  Her only punishment was to work on her cross stitches an extra hour a day with Sansa and Jayne Poole and Sansa thought that was hardly a punishment at all at the time.  Now she realized that must have been devastating to Arya.

 

That was so long ago.  They both had endured far worse punishments since they last saw each other.

Arya told her of trying to go North with the boys of Kings Landing preparing to join the Night's Watch.  How Cersei had sent a search party and Arya thought it was for her but it was actually for a boy named Gendry which Arya never understood.  

Then how she had actually been Lord Tywin's cupbearer at Harrenhall and he had never known it.  How she was then captured by the Brotherhood and how close she had been to being with Robb and their mother at the Twins.  How she had seen Grey Wind shot with arrows by Frey men and how The Hound took her and saved her.  How he taught her to kill and how he meant to ransom her to the Lady Aunt in the Eryie and how when she died he meant to take her to Uncle Brynden at Riverrun.  

Sansa cried at that moment, realizing how close she was to reuniting with her she was overcome with tears. 

"I could have used your company in the Vale but it was for the best you did not come to Aunt Lysa."

Arya raised an eyebrow and Sansa began her story.

She raised her shift up and pointed to the marks from Joffery first.  Her back where he had ordered the Kingsguard to strike her.  

"Ser Meryn Trant had given me the worst beatings.  He seemed to enjoy it, almost." she told Arya as she pointed to a rather ugly scar at her shoulder.

"He is dead now." was all Arya had said.

Sansa then told her of Tyrion, how nice he had been but could never save her from Joffery.  Then of Petyr, how he had smuggled her from Joffery and the Lannisters at Kings Landing only to make her endure Sweet Robin and their Aunt Lysa...then his own advances. 

And then Petyr had sold her.  She did not cry when she told Arya about Ramsay.  Sansa did not allow herself to cry when speaking of him any longer.  

She then removed her shift and show her the rest of her back and thighs.  The bite marks could still be made out.  She saved many more details from Arya but told her that Theon had been the one to sneak her moon tea.

Then they spoke of Jon.  Sansa was hesitant to detail too much.  How bizarre it must be for Arya to see her sister and brother preparing to marry.

Finally she asked though.  

"Do you love him?"  Arya said.  She was not the little girl who had teased her in Kingslanding for loving Joffery.  She was sincere.  She wanted to know, did Sansa love her brother or was this a political arrangement or worse - Sansa thought - did she only want to marry a King...the Sansa that Arya knew and the one that sat beside her on the featherbed were different people and perhaps Arya was trying to sort this.

Sansa answered honestly and carefully.

"Jon swore to protect me when I escaped to Castle Black.  He said it was a promise he would die to keep.  I did not believe him."

Arya listened as Jon offering Sansa protection was clearly no surprise to her.

"I told him that I would not return to Winterfell alive if it was not with him.  I had meant to kill myself if Ramsay won the day and Jon understood.  

Then when the battle was won and the Lords of the North proclaimed Jon their King, my heart broke for him."  

She sighed and looked at Arya who was silent, not knowing what Sansa meant, not yet.

"I knew I had to protect him.  I did not know the things Jon knows about battle formations or sword fighting but I knew how to play the great Game...  The Game of Thrones. 

Sansa could see Arya raise an eyebrow even though she was looking down.

"Father did not know how to play it.  The Baratheons, Lannisters, the Tyrells, and the Petyr and Ramsay and even Roose.  I had learned my lessons from them.  I was quiet and silent and played the part of innocent 'sweetling' or 'little dove' as they all called me.  But I was surviving.  Adjusting to different tortures and only armed with the armor of courtesy and a fair face until Jon saved me.  But when we returned to Winterfell I knew then that I was the one who needed to protect him."

Arya clearly wasn't buying it but Sansa continued.

"Jon is too good.  Jon is like Father.  He does not see the enemy in disguise.  I have learned not to trust anyone until I realized I had trusted Jon....

Sansa realized a small smile was upon her face now when she spoke of him.

"I only cared for him and keeping him King.  Keeping him alive.  Keeping him in Winterfell.  I was protecting him and he was protecting me.  And we began to rebuild Winterfell as we remembered it.  He was like Father.  So patient and strong...so good and honorable.  He was everything a Knight should be.  Everything a King should be."

Arya just stared at Sansa when she was telling her these things.

"I began to think of Robb and compared him to Jon.  I had never thought much about Jon and I never thought of him as a brother and my feelings for Jon were not like my feelings for Robb had been.  I thought myself unsure or wicked." 

Sansa played with the laces of her shift.

"I thought I was like Cersei.  How could I love my brother!?!  I never would have loved Robb like this I thought or Bran or Rickon...but I felt a closeness to Jon and soon I only wanted to be near him.  Not just to help him sort the political implications of his actions but because I wanted to be near him."

Then Sansa smiled.

"Then we discovered it.  In Father's crypt.  A note meant for Robb .... and these."

She moved to the table in her chamber and grabbed the crown and cloak as she gave Arya the note.  She watched her sister scan the words and even moved her hands along the parchment remembering their Lord Father's hand.

"I was relieved.... and to my surprise ....So was Jon."

Arya looked up from the scroll at her sister.

"He loved me too.  My heart wanted to burst but we still had to keep the secret.  We had to wait, we did not know if the North would have a Targaryen King rule them so we plotted for when Dany came to have her agree to leave the North to Jon if he would forsake his birthright and name and take the name Stark when he marries me....  Dany could rule the South and her dragons would save us all from what lies beyond the Wall."

Sansa took a deep breath.

"I do love him, Arya."

"He is the only man I could ever love, my heart beats for him."

She grabbed Arya's hand.  It was a lot for her sister to take in - to be sure.

But Arya nodded silently.  Sansa thought she had passed her test.  

Sansa squeezed her hand 

"Now tell me Arya...tell me of the boy you love.  Gendry."

Arya looked up at her Sansa.  Clearly surprised.

"Gendry?!  He is a stupid blacksmith!"

Sansa smiled.  Arya's words confirmed this.  "But you love him.  You spent far too long telling me how strong and bullheaded he was when you spoke of your time on the Kingsroad to not love him."

Arya looked away now which only made Sansa feel as though her assumption was correct.

"Tell me how he looks.  Your Blacksmith."

Arya crossed her little arms and Sansa thought she would not give in but fortunately she was incorrect.  Perhaps Arya felt the need to divulge her heart's desire as Sansa had.

"He - he has dark hair.  Black.  Not like mine or Jon's but darker.  He has strong arms and blue eyes and when he looks at me I feel ... different.

Sansa smiled and Arya must have grown uncomfortable.  "And ... and ... he does not hold his sword properly."

Sansa laughed a great laugh.

"Oh so you've seen his sword.  My my Arya."

Arya launched herself onto Sansa and Sansa was quickly overpowered despite being much taller than her little sister.  Her giggles overwhelmed her where Arya had not and she was no match for her sister who only grew angrier that Sansa did not fight her back.

When Arya let her arms go where she had pinned her down to the bed Sansa calmed her laughter and made her way back to her desk.

"Well Arya, I have good news.  Your blacksmith is on the way here."

Arya stood. Mad at her almost ... as if Sansa was joking.  Arya's mouth was agape as Sansa handed her the note from Samwell.   Jon said Sam moves slow but I imagine they will arrive any day now.

Arya read the note silently on top Sansa's bed.

Sansa began playing with her hair and Arya did not fight her this time.

 

Sansa dressed and made her way to Jon's chamber.  Pod was at the entrance to the corridor which let her know Bran and Meera were not yet awake.  She wondered where Brienne was but then thought that she might know.

Jon was dressed and Arya was in the chamber with him.  Ghost as well.  Jon's face was solemn and she had wondered what they had been discussing to give him such a sour expression.

"Arya.  I did not hear you leave this morning."

Sansa smiled as she made her way to her sister.  She tucked a small stray hair behind her ear and admired her plait still in tact from the night before.

She had braided four braids into one two larger braids down the back.  She knew Arya liked to have her hair back when she was running about and playing with her sword.  Brienne had whispered to Sansa that Arya was actually quite adept with the sword now which did not surprise Sansa.  She always favored swords to stitches.

Arya looked up at her.  It was most peculiar and Sansa turned to Jon, searching for an answer.

Jon simply offered her a chair at his chamber table.  

"Arya has something she wants to show us."

Sansa did not understand.

"Something she learned, in Braavos."

 

 

XXXXX

 

Bran

 

Meera was laying next to him under the Weirwood.  He stood and offered her his hand.  She smiled at him.  

Then he kissed her.  As he had done a thousand times before.  They walked the Godswood hand in hand and spoke about Arya.

Bran knew she had served the Faceless Men in Braavos.  He had seen it before but it was only now he told Meera.  She was not surprised.  Nothing could surprise Meera now.  She had seen too much.

Bran knew Meera was only waiting until they could be done.  Be done looking in the trees for answers of the past and the future

The day that she and Bran could be together at Greywater Watch away from everyone, hidden away.  The day they could be done with the Game of Thrones and the fighting the army of the Undead. 

Bran told her what must happen.  How the Long Night was before him.  How they must fight and he must be the Stark at Winterfell when Jon marches North.  

Today he told her the part that Arya was to play.  Meera only nodded.  She knew he was right.  He was always right now.  He had learned so much now that they were safe at Winterfell. 

Pod took him to the Wierwood everyday and Bran learned the skills he had not learned from Brynden Rivers as Meera and Podrick watched over him.  Pod would talk to her while he was at the tree.  She had taught Pod how to throw a net and he taught her how to wield Dark Sister.  Meera had told Bran that she wished for a Valyrian Steel spear instead of Dark Sister, that she did not feel good enough at swordplay to own such a blade.

At night they returned to Bran's chamber.  At first Meera had to sneak into Bran's bed but it never really mattered where she slept.  He always came to her in her dreams.

That is where they were now.  In their dream.  Where Bran could stand and walk and hold her.  As he always wished to during the day.  

They could hold hands and sometimes Bran even stole a kiss.

He took her places, he had learned to show her as the Bloodraven showed him different places and events.  He mostly stayed in the Godswood though but sometimes he took her to the Neck.  She would smile and catch a frog with her spear sometimes although she knew Bran had conjured the frogs for her.

This dream they walked about the Godswood.  They usually walked.  Bran liked the feeling of it.  

"I am going to give Arya the sword then."  Meera said.

Bran nodded.  He knew the sword was destined for Arya.  He had seen her with it.   'Dark Sister'  the name had always suited her anyway.

"The Long Night will be here soon Meera... Winter is Coming."  He said this too urgently. 

Meera turned to him and kissed him.  She kissed him longer and more passionately than he was used to.  The way he always had meant to kiss her but he never wanted to disgrace her, not even in her dreams.

When their lips parted the only thing she said to him was, "When?"

He looked up at the sky and then brought his gaze back to her as he took her about her slim waist.

She was so short to him when he was able to stand.  He must have been nearly two feet taller than her, he thought.

He looked into her green eyes.  He wished the dream would not end and he kissed her once more.

He told her and she only nodded.

She looked sullen as her brother Jojen had looked.  The burden of knowing was now upon her as well.  A side effect of sharing his world with her. 

"I wish to marry you before this.  To know you in every way, Bran."

She led him to the Weirwood tree. 

Bran was surprised at how bold Meera was on this night.  He never looked into their future.  He did not want to know it.  He wanted to live every moment with her so he never sought to see their future.  

He smiled. A boy of six and ten to be wed.  He laughed.

Bran let her lead him to the Weirwood tree that he made blossom with beautiful red leaves of five points as he took her hand.

Just the two of them.  In a dream.  It had felt as if it was always meant to be this way.

"I am yours and you are mine"  they whispered to each other.

Bran conjured a cloth to bind their hands together as they kissed.

They spent the dream discovering each other wishing that the morning would not come for them but when they finally awoke together in his giant featherbed under his furs he smiled at Meera.  She blushed and kissed him.

"My Lady Wife." He whispered to her and smiled.

"Lord Reed."  She giggled and reached her hand down under the furs.  He knew what she meant to find even if he could not feel it as he had in their dream.

He kissed her shoulder and then made for her small clothes.  He moved his hand along her curves as he threw her small clothes onto his floor and then he moved himself onto his back.  She took his night shirt off of him as she moved onto him ...  On top of him.  He smiled at her.  Wishing he was of more use to her in this reality.

He really did not know what he was doing... even after being with her in their dream he was nervous.  He breathed heavy and she gently moved herself down onto his manhood.

She looked at him silently.  He nodded.  

Then he sat up on his elbows and moved his lips to be upon hers.  She kissed him as it was in their dream.  Passion overcame her and she began to move in time on him.  He only watched her, they had been their before the dream only he felt her and moved with her then.  Two bodies working together.  He could only watch as she came to her climax and with that he felt a pang in his stomach.  Nerves he thought.  

She melted onto him.  He held her close until she regained her breath.

She sat up and looked upon him as she gently pushed his hair back from his brow.  It was wet with sweat even though he felt as though she had done most of the work.  

While Meera caught her breath beside him he stroked her hair and pressed kisses onto her bare shoulder.  He looked at her and again sat to his elbows to lean for a kiss.  A proper kiss.  The way he could kiss her now that she was his and he was hers.

He smiled and laughed a bit.  

"It was better in the dream." He said with a laugh.

She smiled at him and kissed him once more and with that she slipped out of the furs naked as her name day.

He took in the sight of her.

She blushed once more as she slipped on her breeches.  

"Is there not another wedding we must be preparing for?" she said as she walked out his chamber door.

 

 

 

 


	36. Arya

She sparred with Brienne in the yard.

The Lady Knight she had heard her called. Arya rather liked that. Had things been different Arya thought she might have been a Lady Knight too. She would have never let her Father marry her off like he had done to Sansa. She would have stolen away and become a sellsword instead of a Lady. Joined a Kingsguard as Lady Brienne had.

Now she was Sansa's sworn sword as Jaime Lannister was hers. How peculiar this all was. Arya was fast, it was her only advantage over Lady Brienne. She dodged her blows and met her wooden sword quickly not to engage for too long as the Lady Knight would overwhelm her with her strength. She was tall which meant she also had the angles to give forceful blows but Arya had been trained by a Bravosi to use her own size to her advantage and Arya quickly dodged a sure blow from Brienne only to take Brienne at her ankles and then deliver her own blow to Brienne's knee. Another roll away from Brienne's wooden sword and Arya delivered her final blow to the Lady Knight's arm, between her jerkin and chainmail at the shoulder where she was vulnerable. Brienne surrendered and gave Arya a smile.

"You are good. Did Ser Sandor teach you that?"

Arya shook her head no.

She remembered when Brienne and the Hound had met, both trying to protect her and ultimately engaging in a melee that nearly killed the Hound and lost Brienne Arya in the process. Had she gone with the Lady Knight then she might have met with Sansa and Jon sooner. Helped them reclaim Winterfell perhaps instead of being across the Narrow Sea in Braavos.  Useless to her Sister and Brother.

She was there _now_ , Sansa had told her.

Arya brushed off her tunic.  

"I learned it in Braavos."

Brienne nodded.  She was of few words and Arya found she liked that.

Ser Jaime had been looking on from afar.  He kept an eye on Arya but never got so close that it bothered her.  Not as Brienne was with Sansa.  The Lady Knight hardly left Sansa alone but after what Sansa had been through Arya understood why she felt comfortable in the presence of the Lady Knight.

 

 

I am to break my fast with Sansa.  You may stay here Ser Jaime and train with Lady Brienne if you wish.  Perhaps she will show you mercy as I fear you are no match for her with but your left hand."

"Lady Knight.  Please show me mercy."  He said mocking Arya.

Brienne looked down.  She was ever courteous and did not know how to react to a Lord and Lady being so vile to each other.  

"If Ser Jaime wishes to melee I would endeavor to match his skill as my Lady wishes."

Arya let out a chuckle and Jaime smiled and rolled his eyes at Brienne's response.

She made her way back to her chamber.  Sansa's chamber.  It was their chamber when they were young too.  She had hated to share with Sansa then.  Sansa always had dresses and girls doing her hair amongst their space.

Now she was glad to be close to her sister.  She had told Sansa everything now.  Showed her everything.

After the night when Arya wore Sansa's face Arya realized she could not fight this war without them.  They were stronger as a Pack.

She meant to discover the truth by wearing Sansa's face.  To see if Jon truly loved her.  To see if Sansa was loyal to the Starks.  Arya also wished to march South on Cersei with the force of the North but Jon had put an end to that.  Arya had been so wrong about everything it seemed.

Jon loved Sansa.  The North would not seek revenge as she had.  Most importantly that night she had learned that Sansa loved her, missed her even.  It was true she saw now.  Sansa wished that they had never left Winterfell.  She wished that she had never gone to Kings Landing or wished to marry the Prince.  She thought herself silly even.  She told Arya that she was sorry and that Arya had always been right...only now she wasn't.

It was Sansa who secured the alliance with the Targaryens while helping Jon keep his Throne in the North.  It was Sansa that kept Jon here.  Jon did not care to march on Cersei or take up arms against the Freys for the Red Wedding.  He only cared to keep the North safe from the threat of the Undead.  

It made no sense to send Arya to the South to kill Cersei.  Jon had no interest in the affairs of the South.  Nor did Sansa.  Jon told Arya that it would not matter which family skeleton sat the Iron Throne when the Night's King had killed all of the living.

Arya finally saw that she was wrong and that she could not be a lone wolf any longer.  She must join her pack.  It would not do them any good to fight a war amongst themselves.  

That had been nearly a week.  Sansa forgave Arya instantly and only sought to learn about her travels to Braavos.  Sansa for her part did not turn up her nose when Arya recalled what she had done.  How she had killed Ser Meryn Trant in that whore house.  How she had been the assassin in the Riverlands and it was she that killed the Walder Frey.  

When Arya told Sansa of how she could join her mind with Nymeria who was now far too wild to have as a pet Sansa hardly seemed surprised.  

Arya opened the chamber door.

Strangely Meera was in the chamber although Arya knew she had not slept there that night.  Meera was playing with her own hair although Arya did not see how she would get such curls to do much else.  Perhaps Sansa could work a plait in her hair but whatever Meera was trying seemed in vain.

"Lady Meera.  Is Podrick with our Brother?"

Meera nodded.

"Pod has taken Bran to the Weirwood Tree.  But he will be in attendance as Night Falls for the Wedding."

Arya gave her best smile as she turned to her sister.  She thought Sansa was blushing.

Sansa looked beautiful on this morning.  Her hair was pulled back in two small braids in the front and the rest of her hair was left long and flowing.  Most girls in the South wore their hair up and she remembered Sansa had favored those styles once as well.  Now she looked like a true daughter of the North.  Her hair was like their Lady Mother's.  Long beautiful auburn hair that fell well down her back reminded Arya of their Mother.  Arya saw that Sansa was near tears as she turned to her.

"Are you scared or something?"  Arya said a little too brash.

Sansa gave her a small smile.

"No" she said calmly.

She walked to Arya now.

"I'm so happy." she said as she brought her hand gently to Arya's cheek.

Arya let her.  She never would have let her be so sweet and sentimental with her before but now she supposed it was nice almost.

"Should I do your hair Arya?  I believe Gendry arrived late last evening."

Arya felt her stomach grow sick.

"Uhh."  She lost her words.  

"What does that have to do with my hair?"

Sansa just raised an eyebrow at her.  Arya could not fool her when it came to matters of the heart.  Sansa, despite everything she had been through always believed in romance and the Songs the Singers sang.

She had teased Arya the night before saying that they will make a Song called the Smith and the Wolf for her sister and Gendry.  It would include a part where they evaded Tywin Lannister perhaps, she had said and Arya told her that if that was included it would be a fine song she supposed and they both laughed.

"You may do my hair." Arya finally said but Sansa had already started undoing the braids she had done the night prior.

Arya sat below her as she began to work her fingers through her scalp.  Gentle at first but then pulling a little harder as she placed the braids in the middle.

Arya grew nervous as she began to think of Gendry and she began to grow impatient with Sansa's braiding.

"Can you be rather quick?  I don't have all day as you do to prepare.  I need to see ab..."

"There.  Sansa said giving her head one last pull as she secured the plait."

Arya stood and looked in the mirror.

Sansa came up beside her and whispered loud enough for Meera to hear.

"If he liked you when you looked like a stable boy I imagine he will like you even more like this."

Arya scoffed but she saw the truth in it.  She was pretty she thought.

Arya made to leave but Sansa stopped her.

"I have laid your dress on your bed.  Find time in your busy day to put it on before my wedding...will you?"

Arya only smiled and rushed out of the chamber.  She could not shock Gendry all at once by wearing the dress Sansa had selected for her, her jerkin and riding leathers would suffice and besides she wished to see him immediately.  

Her heart raced.

The barracks?  The training yard?  The stables?  The smithy?  She did not know where she could find him.  She ventured with the smithy and only found his helm and belongings.  She picked up the bull helm and traced it with her fingers.  It was different than the one he had made in Kings Landing.  That one he left somewhere on the Kings Road to avoid the Goldcloacks.  This was a replica and it was a bit nicer than the first.  

She searched his things.  Simple really.  A few tunics and some mail it seems he had made himself.  He didn't have much she supposed.   She looked around the smithy. There was a hammer and anvil that she thought had been used somewhat recently. Perhaps Sansa and Jon had found someone among Stannis's men to forge steel for them. She knew Gendry would be better. She saw a small bed of hay tucked around the back of the workstation with a woolen blanket atop. Gendry must have slept here rather than the barracks. Warmer here she thought. She rummaged a bit more through his things and then she found it - a small iron wolf.  It was made from old horseshoes but Arya supposed it was quite well made and she rather loved it, even if it was a stupid trinket.  

"I see you found my gift."

She turned and saw him.  Her heart beat so fast it hurt but she would not let him know it.

She kicked the ground and looked down at the wolf in her hands.

"Hot Pie's was better."

He smiled. 

"Gods" she thought.  He looked better than she had remembered.  His jaw was chiseled and he had tried growing a beard that she would have found ugly on anyone else but the patchiness of his beard made him look more rugged and strong for some reason.

She met his eyes now. 

Seven Hells. 

His eyes.

His eyes were so blue it felt as though they were piercing her with his glance.

He has never seen me like this, she thought.

Like a girl.

When it was discovered that Arya was a Stark at Acorn Hall, Lady Ravella Swann had dressed her up in a horrible dress but Arya supposed that she just looked like a boy in a dress rather than a proper lady.

Today, however, she supposed she looked like a proper lady in breeches. With her hair long and the years between they last saw each other Arya no longer looked like a boy. Far from it. She knew it but wasn't sure if she liked it.

"Whatever you say Milady"  He finally said.

He approached her.

Arya felt her face sting and her vision grow blurry with tears.

Like Sansa this morning she was so happy she wanted to cry stupid tears.

"I - I thought you dead." she said blinking away a tear.

"Where have you been?  Why did you not come for me?"

She asked her questions to quickly for Gendry but he did not back away from her.  

He was so close to her now it scared Arya.

"They said you were dead, I came to Jon - not even knowing you were here...I-I wanted to...I did not kn--"

She silenced his stammering with a kiss.

She near had to jump to reach him but when she met his lips with her own he wrapped his huge arms around her and held her into him.  Into his strong body she let herself go and let him kiss her back."

When he released her and gently placed her onto the ground he put a small strand of hair that was loose behind her ear and smoothed her hair.

Perhaps Sansa had selected this hairstyle on purpose. She remembered Jon doing something of the like when she was wearing Sansa's face. She liked it when Gendry did it.

He ran his fingers through it and Arya let him.

She looked him in the eyes and finally let a tear fall.

"Well we are alive now I suppose." she whispered to him.

He smiled.

"Aye, Milady.  We Are." he said and thumbed her tear away.

 


	37. A Wedding at Winterfell

"Tell me Tyrion" she said with a grin..."how does it feel going to your wife's wedding."

He raised his glass to her and nodded at her attempted jape.

"My Father made me marry her. She was just a girl. He couldn't make me bed her though." He jumped down from the chair and made his way towards Dany now. He supposed he would be a good Lord and escort her to the wedding this evening.

As he looked up at her, he wouldn't have known he was looking at a Targaryen until he reached her head. From the neck down Dany dressed as a typical Northerner. Plain clothes, woolen, with some fur embellishments. She also favored a bit of leather and wore a tunic and breeches rather than the dresses Sansa favored. Dany had really only been in the company of Sansa, Brienne, Meera, and now Arya. If she was basing her ideas of Northern ladies wardrobes from that lot Catelyn Stark would be turning in her grave. Only Sansa truly dressed like a highborn lady and since her return to Winterfell she could not focus her attentions on her dresses as she used to...her energies had been elsewhere. 

As they walked down to the Godswood Tyrion saw exactly what had been done since Jon and Sansa had reclaimed their home. The walls had been patched, the gates secured, the towers reinforced and the influx of men arriving to march North was met with careful preparation. Tonight that meant a feast for the entire North and a fair amount of men from the Riverlands. There was, of course, the outsiders as well. The Wildlings who whispered Jon was a God, the Lannister men who followed Jaime who Tyrion supposed now served Arya Stark - the 'She Wolf of the Riverlands'.... there was the Brotherhood Without Banners which somehow had Sandor Clegane and Edric Dayne among their members, and then there was Tyrion and Dany - a Targaryen and Lannister promising an Army and Dragons. 

The Godswood had been lit with candles as the sun began to set. Wyman Manderly and several other Lords carried ornate lanterns. Beric Dondarrion gave Daenearys a bow accompanied by a smile that for some reason Tyrion found he did not like. Tyrion stood opposite the walkway from Arya and Brandon Stark. Pod was holding the boy up but you could barely notice. Pod must be ten times as strong as he had been when Tyrion knew him in Kings Landing... carrying the Stark boy about had given Pod arms the size of small tree trunks and Tyrion saw a serving maid making eyes at his squire in the Great Hall. He wondered if Pod was too dense to realize the girl wanted to bed him. 

Tyrion looked at Arya once more. Her hair was braided much like Sansa wore hers of late. Down but pulled back in the front, the Northern style. Arya Stark no longer looked like the kitchen boy she looked like when she was in Kings Landing. Tyrion thought a little Lordling like Edric Dayne might even think her beautiful... he would have if he had been ten and seven. Sansa had even managed to get her into a dress on this night. Just when Tyrion thought Arya truly looked the part a Northern Lady he noticed that she had straw in her hair and that the back braid was a mess...no doubt from her engaging in swordplay in the yards before the ceremony. 

Guests took their places. Tyrion noticed Jaime took his place next to Arya. Tormund Giantsbane managed to wed the Karstark girl and they stood close to the Weirwood. Davos stood in front of the Weirwood Tree. Tyrion looked up at the massive trunk. It's white bark stood out as the evening darkness set around them. It was cold out, that was certain, but no snow fell on this night. The red five point leaves were rather beautiful even if it wasn't as elaborate as the Sept of Baelor that he had been married in...perhaps this was better.

Jon Snow emerged from the crowd. Several Lords patted his shoulder and shook his hand as he made his way to the Godswood. He smiled and Tyrion realized this was one of the only times he remembered the bastard looking happy. Tyrion grunted a low laugh. How unhappy he himself had been to be marrying Sansa Stark only a few years ago!

Then a hush came over the crowd. Even the wildlings managed to silence themselves for a few minutes when Sansa was being led the pathway towards King Jon.

Her Lady Knight Brienne held the honor of escorting her. Tyrion was thankful again for that for Joffery had taken the duty upon himself at their wedding. Tyrion did not know which Sansa hated more on that night, marrying him, the Imp, or having Joffery take the honor that belonged to her Father who's head he still had on a spike.

She wore a simple gown of gray and white but Tyrion thought the simpleness of it only made her look more beautiful. The dress that Cersei had her in had suited a Lannister but this was the Queen of the North and the silks and laces of Dorne and the South had no place here. The finest embellishment she wore on this night was the crown of blue roses that had been Rhaegar's gift to Lyanna. The Blue Winter Roses shone even where Tyrion could see and he noticed it brought out a sparkle in her Tully Blue eyes and there was no denying her beauty on this night.

Tyrion noticed Sansa smirk as her eyes met Jon's. He thought that was rather sweet.

Thank the Seven! ... this poor girl finally was marrying someone she at her wedding.

He looked up at Daenearys now. Her eyes were on Jon. He studied her, trying to interpret her feelings and guess her thoughts. This was not what they had expected when they went Norht.Mayhaps she truly cares for her nephew Tyrion thought as Dany offered a grin and the smallest of nods to her nephew when his eyes met hers.

The Onion Knight finally spoke when everyone was done smiling at each other. 

Tyrion heard that Northern ceremonies were short since there were no septons to deal with. For that, Tyrion was thankful. They could return to the warmth of the hall and the comfort of their cups a bit quicker without having to listen to a Septon.

Ser Davos was a bit nervous, perhaps he worshiped the New Gods.

"Who Comes Before the Old Gods on this Night" He finally said.

Brienne took the honor of escorting Sansa quite seriously, Tyrion noted and she responded with ease and cool authority. Perhaps she practiced Tyrion thought.

"Sansa, of the House Stark, comes here to be wed. A woman grown, trueborn and noble. She comes to beg the blessing of the Gods. Who comes to claim her?"

Tyrion saw Jon step forward. 

"Jon, of House Targaryen, the King in the North. Who gives her?"

Again Brienne spoke with a coolness that he decided was definitely rehearsed. 

"Brienne, of the House Tarth eldest daughter of Lord Selwyn Tarth, Lord of Evenfall Hall, on the island of Tarth, the Sapphire Isle."

Brienne looked into the crowd and Tyrion decided she must have been looking at Arya Stark who was standing opposite Tyrion and Dany next to the Blackfish and Jaime.

 

Davos spoke once more, "Lady er - Princess Sansa, do you take this man?"

 

The rest of the ceremony was much of the same, or so Tyrion thought. Somehow Tormund Giantsbane managed to stand squarely in front of Tyrion and blocked his view of the rest.

He saw them kneel before the Godswood and then there must have been some sort of prayer that he did not know because everyone grew even more quiet than they ever. 

Finally he was able to see the couple rise and Sansa Stark took her Grey Stark marriage cloak off her shoulders and put it upon Jon Snow's. Quite the difference from when he put his Lannister cloak on her shoulders. He rolled his eyes thinking of the embarrassment.

Tyrion had never been to a Northern wedding but when Sansa fastened the cloak about Jon's neck and gave him a chaste kiss on the cheek the entire courtyard erupted with cheers. He was not sure if it was the surprise that Sansa had made him a Stark or perhaps that the cheering and chanting was a Northern custom. He simply offered Daenearys a shrug and joined in cheering as he followed the newly wedded couple into the Great Hall where he hoped to find a serving girl with a pitcher of Dornish Red if he was lucky.

Brienne

 

Brienne slowly sipped her ale and a small smile escaped from her lips. She was quite proud of her part in the ceremony and while she did not care much for feasts and dancing she was rather enjoying herself on this night.

Queen Sansa was beautiful. Happier it seemed than she had ever been. She watched her on the dance floor. She danced with Lord Manderly for two turns before returning to Jon only to be stolen away by Tormund. 

She sipped again as she saw him approach. She supposed it was easy to miss him but she, even on this night, kept her better senses.

"Lady Brienne" he said rather arrogantly. It was his way she had been told.

"Lord Tyrion." She nodded her head. 

Brienne did not make eye contact only scanned the floor. 

Arya had taken to a drinking game with a squire and some wildlings but it appeared she had not had a sip of her own drink. The smith that Sam Tarly had arrived with did look rather drunk as a result of the game though. 

The Blacksmith was dark of hair and looked so much like Renly Baratheon that Brienne thought she was seeing his ghost when she first laid eyes upon him. 

"Have you seen my good brother?" Tyrion asked. 

Brienne's eyes cut to Tyrion. His question seemed more of an accusation.

She had seen him. He was with Brynden Tully and a few Lannister men. Sitting and eating rather on guard if anything. Perhaps the Red Wedding was too recent a memory.

She lied though.

"Perhaps Princess Arya would know better than I, My Lord."

Tyrion raised an eyebrow. 

"Very well."

She looked at him once more, hoping her silence would bid him to leave.

The dragon queen approached and sat next to them. She soon realized they would not leave her to sit quietly in the company of herself.

"Lady Brienne."

Brienne nodded once more. 

"He is quite handsome is he not?" the Dragon Queen said. 

Brienne felt as if she was having a trap set for her, but she did not care to fall into a trap, even one as innocent as this.

"King Jon is quite handsome on this night. You must be proud to see your nephew wed."

She saw the Queen raise an eyebrow.

"Yes. In times like this it is important that we find happiness where we can."

With that Daenearys pardoned herself and left them for the company of Jorah Mormont who had arrived with Samwell Tarly as well. 

Tyrion scooted a bit closer to her now.

"You do know she meant my brother."

Brienne did not respond and with that Tyrion took another drink.

"She's right too - You know. 

Brienne still sat in silence yet Tyrion stood up and continued, much to Brienne's dismay.

"We'll all die soon enough. You might as well bed him once before you go off fighting the Undead beyond the wall."

He took a final gulp and placed his empty goblet on the table before them and waddled away after a serving girl.

Brienne searched for Jaime once more and her eyes finally found him. 

Their eyes met and he smiled.

Brienne blushed.

Mayhaps Tyrion was right.

Sansa

 

She danced a few turns. Being on her feet eased her nerves. Lord Manderly, despite his size, was a wonderful partner, lighter in the feet than one might expect.

Sansa watched Jon turn Arya around the floor and then he was taken away from her once more when Daenearys cut in for a dance before Sansa could make her way back to her husband.

She shook her head and smiled when she thought of that. Jon was her husband. Her stomach fluttered and her heart sank with excitement. She was a woman wed and this time to a husband she loved. She felt a grin come across her face and this night she cared not to hide it. She did not need to be as stoic and cold as Father or Robb had been. There was time for smiles on nights like this, she thought.

The room felt small with all the men from all of the North and Riverlands there to celebrate. A true Northern celebration, much like the time King Robert had come to the North what felt like ages ago. When they were all happy. When it was Summer and there was no War of the Five Kings and no Undead Army, when Daenearys was just a beggar kings sister and dragons had not lived since the reign of Aegon III. What a different time. She looked at Jon who still wore her Stark cloak and suddenly the winter rose crown felt heavy on her head. It was a very different time.

Sansa sat next to Brienne who was staring most curiously across the hall at a group of Tully and Lannister men. She sat down beside her sword shield and got a better perspective on what...or who, rather, Brienne found so interesting across the hall. He was easy to spot. Tall and a jerkin of gold and crimson with a Lannister Lion about his chest. He did not look much different than when she had last seen him at Joffery's wedding but his eyes told a different story. For a moment, Sansa felt sad for the Kingslayer. His children had all died and the woman he loved had been driven mad upon their deaths. The cruelty of Kings Landing or being trapped in a loveless marriage perhaps had driven Cersei to do things she might not have had she married Rhaegar as she had once wished. But not even her brother could deny her nature now. Cersei the Cruel or Cersei the Mad. She now held Theon's sister and a handful of Sand Snakes in Kings Landing to lure Daenearys to her gates. 

She took a sip from Brienne's goblet. Ale. 

"Shall I ask him to dance with you? Perhaps he would since I was his sister in marriage once." 

Brienne finally looked at Sansa who in turn pointed at her former husband. 

Tyrion was drinking ale directly from a pitcher. Two servant girls were standing on each side of him.

"I have told you how I felt about him, my lady."

Sansa nodded. She remembered how at first Brienne hardly said two words to her but Sansa discovered Brienne's feelings soon enough. It started by Brienne recalling how Sansa's Lady Mother had set her on the task to restore her and Arya to the North in exchange for the Kingslayer. Sansa noticed how vividly she recalled certain events when Jaime Lannister was mentioned until she realized it was the Kingslayer she loved. For all of Brienne's ideas of honor and chivalry she had fallen for a man who had famously broken his oath. It hurt her to think she could love someone like him. Sansa believed it hurt her even more to know that sometimes chivalry and honor isn't as black and white as it is in the story books.

Sansa thought of her own Lord Father as she looked at Jon once more who was now drinking among the Wildlings and the Brotherhood. Her Father had kept a secret from his Lady Wife for as long as they were married, dishonoring her by having Jon in his presence all for honor. To honor an oath to his sister and to keep the life of his nephew safe from his own best friend, the King. 

Sansa looked back at Brienne.

"I --- I think ---- I think it best to leave it be as we are going to battle in less than a fortnight."

Sansa sighed. Less than a fortnight with her new husband as well. She did wish to think of how little time they had.

Sansa picked up the goblet of ale once more and finished it.

"I think it a better reason to ask him at once."

Brienne looked at her now with a rather surprised look.

Sansa responded with a raised eyebrow.

"But do as you wish, before someone else does."

Brienne looked back over at Jaime Lannister who had a few servant girls about him now. 

Sansa leaned in towards Brienne.

"I will be we will keep Ghost and Pod outside the Lord's Chamber doors. You have the night off, if it pleases you."

Brienne looked simply stunned and barely nodded yes.

Sansa walked towards Jon. He put his own tankard down and walked towards her. A song Sansa had not heard before was playing but it was lively enough for a dance.

Jon took her about the waist. He hands were so strong but so gentle. She pulled him into her placing one hand upon his shoulder and sliding one hand under his arm and resting it upon his back. She looked him in the eye and could feel he was breathing heavy. She was too. Her heart beat and she felt her cheeks flush as his eyes studied her. 

They swayed in time to the music. She looked around the room. Daenearys had not left Jorah Mormont's side for quite some time. Bran and Meera had slipped away much earlier and Sansa supposed that Arya and her Smith would disappear soon enough. 

Then Jon kissed her. Right in the middle of the Hall. She buried her head into his shoulder after that and they danced a bit more. 

"Careful, My Lady Wife. I do not wish your crown to fall from your head or mess your braids."

Sansa could feel her cheeks grow even hotter than before.

"You should not kiss me for all to see." She said with a smile.

She wanted his kisses. She wanted his lips on her this instant but she did not want all the wedding guests seeing them kiss for they surely would begin to call for a bedding.

As much as she wanted to be in Jon's bed she did not want a bedding ceremony. Perhaps at one time, had she married Loras when she was a maiden or something of the sort she would have happily partaken in the bedding ceremony. All of the sudden her back stung where her scabs and scars were and she grew sick thinking that at any moment some drunk Lordling would begin to chant for a bedding and they would pull her clothes off her for the entire North to see what Ramsay had done to her.

Jon tucked her hair behind her crown and then touched her cheek gently. He was trying to calm her she thought.

"Do you remember how I told you Freefolk men steal their brides away from their villages and that wildling women are expected to fight the kidnapping."

Sansa remembered. She heard all about it when Tormund married Allys. The fight was welcomed amongst Freefolk, Sansa supposed women like Allys or Osha who could hold their own against a man even of Tormund's size to eventually succumb to his advances showed he was quick and strong enough to protect her in the future. Something like that although Tormund had said many women allow themselves to be caught. She remembered the bloodied lip Tormund wore around so proudly after he was wed to Allys. 

She nodded her head. "I remember."

Jon looked at her and lightly kissed her cheek and whispered in her ear. His breath tickled her and she was sensitive to his touch as his lips brushed her hair.

"Don't let your crown fall."

Sansa looked up at her crown, confused.

She reached up to touch it and all of the sudden she felt her feet come from underneath her. 

Her crown fell to her hands and she realized Jon had swung her around onto one shoulder and was running away with her towards the Lord's Chamber.

Free folk were cheering and Sansa started flailing and yelling at him to put her down. He ran past Arya who was laughing at her and Sansa grew so mad and confused she threw her crown at her sister and let out a scream.

Arya of course caught it and continued laughing.

Finally they reached an empty corridor and Jon put her down. She steadied herself and then looked at her husband who only smiled at her. She pushed him away and started tending to her hair which must have been an absolute mess from being carried like a sack of flour across the great hall to their chamber hall.

She smiled and then gave him a slap on the chest. 

"I suppose you stole me?"

Jon smiled. 

"Would you have preferred a bedding ceremony."

She looked around as Jon steadied his breath. Nobody was around. No one to pull of her dress and shift and reveal her scars. He had saved her from all that. 

She smoothed her dress and walked to their chamber door. 

"Well are you coming? Someone has to get me out of this."


	38. A Bedding at Winterfell

She closed the chamber door.

The hall was quiet. Perhaps Bran and Meera were in their chamber but she did not care. She knew no one would disturb them on this night. Ghost roamed the hall and Arya had slipped away with the blacksmith. No one could disturb them now. There was no guard outside the chamber doors but she supposed it was not necessary. She had heard it said many times that he was the best swordsmen in the Seven Kingdoms. She looked at his Valyrian Steel sword on the desk. Who would dare disturb him on this night?

She supposed love had won this evening.

The look in his eyes told her that. She felt it in his gaze.

She smoothed the dress she wore. She suddenly felt uncomfortable. Unsure of herself or what to do. Her mother had never told her what to expect on a night like tonight. 

Her mother was long dead but she tried to put that out of her mind. Surely her mother would not care for a match such as this anyhow.

He was not the a Knight perhaps her Lord Father or Mother had envisioned for her. Only a few years ago she had dreamed of sharing her bed with a Baratheon. That was the match her Lady Mother would have approved of...that she herself had wanted but that was never meant to be. Not truly. Her love was before her and her heart beat only for him on this night.

She sipped a bit of wine to ease her nerves. She supposed he could tell she was nervous.

He took the goblet from her and placed it upon the bedside table. He smiled at her and then began to kiss her slowly and gently. He was taller than her but barely. His kisses moved to her neck and they were so gentle that it made her ache for him. He placed a kiss upon her shoulder...one then two as his hand moved for the laces of her dress while his other hand held her to him. 

At first she drew her breath in...nerves, she thought.

But then her own hands moved to help him. She wished to be as naked as her name day. To stand before him on this night and let him take in the sight of her.

The laces were loose and her dress fell to the ground. She was in but her shift. She was sure he could make out the lines of her body for the shift barely covered much of her at all.

His breath was heavy. She knew he had loved another before her but it did not matter on this night. The past would remain in the past. She was sure she was the only woman for him now. It was his way. He would be true to her.

He was not like Robert Baratheon or Tyrion Lannister who could not keep to one bed. He loved with is whole heart, she thought. He was hers, and she was his, from this night on.

He looked at her and made to remove the shift but she resisted and instead she made for his breeches.

He did not protest.

His tunic came over his head quick enough. She ran her hand down his chest then his abdomen. His muscles grew taut as her finger slowly traced the muscles of his stomach. She rather liked making him quiver like he did.

She had seen him unclothed once before. He did not know she was looking. Now it was different. He welcomed her eyes upon him.

Her fingers moved down and reached his leather breeches. She could see his manhood was stiff but he did not rush her. 

She ran her hand over the outside of breeches and felt the length of him. His hardness. She could feel her own excitement rise at the touch of him.

He did not move. He did not wish to frighten her she thought.

She unlaced his leathers and worked the breeches over his hardened cock. The breeches fell to the ground and he stepped out of them completely.

Then he turned her around. Whispered sweet words in her ear and put kisses on her neck. He gently traced her curves and her nipples hardened as he moved his hands across her chest and lifted her shift. Now in nothing but her small clothes she turned to face him once more.

She did not know what compelled her to do this but she stepped to him moving him back onto the featherbed. He smiled at this and she almost felt embarrassed. Almost.

She moved her hand along the length of him atop his woolen small clothes once more. His eyes rolled. Either with delight or pain she did not know but he did not stop her. He lifted his hips and with that she slid his small clothes completely off and took in the sight of him.

His cock was long and hard. Dark pink and stiff as a rod, he smiled a half smile at her, somewhere between proud and shy himself. Her body was excited at the sight of him and she began to ache at her womanhood for him. She took him in her hand again and gave a nervous pull. Her cheeks flushed and she was embarrassed once more.

He did not speak but perhaps he could tell that she grew nervous and so he pulled her down onto him and began kissing her and whispering once more.

"I love you" she heard herself say.

He touched her gently moving his hand into her small clothes. She was wet to his touch and first thought to be embarrassed but it felt so good she did not wish him to stop.

One then two of his fingers moved inside of her. Gentle circles working away at her. Making her flush and her passion rise. She felt her need for him grow as his kisses crashed upon her and his fingers worked away at her.

She moved to pull her own small clothes off and she realized they were both naked as their name day.

He was on top of her now. His weight gently pressed to her as his lips fell upon hers again.

"I love you too" He whispered to her. 

But then his kisses stopped.

She drew back in confusion and looked into his eyes.

"I have loved you longer than you know."

She moved to kiss him again but he pulled back.

"I love you Brienne, I wish you to know that."

She smiled at him. She was not embarrassed any longer. 

"I love you Jaime."

He smiled at her at brushed her blonde hair away from her brow.

She lifted her hips towards him and he kissed her gently as he moved inside of her.

"I love you Jaime." She said over and over until he made her so overwrought with passion she could not speak. They moved together and as she reached her peak he reached his and spilled inside of her.

He stayed atop her for a moment and kissed her lips once more, lingering a bit and kissing her cheek where her scar was and then gave her a nip.

She smiled and rolled her eyes at him.

He moved his forearms under her and propped himself up still with the weight of him largely atop her. It did not bother her and she rather liked it, truth be told.

He smiled and stroked her hair and kissed her ear.

"Marry me before we go to the wall." He whispered.

She whispered back into his ear. 

"Tomorrow"

He smiled and she felt him begin stiffen inside her once more.

DANY

 

She placed the goblet on the table.

It was just the two of them.

She looked at his hand. She realized her eyes lingered longer than might have been proper when he pulled his tunic back.

"Khaleesi."

He said. 

She had missed his voice. He was one of the few that still called her that. That was her title. It was the one that had felt right.

Viserys had earned them the title of Beggar King and Beggar Queen and she was glad to have traded that for Khaleesi. It reminded her of him too. Drogo. Her sun and her stars. He promised her the world and in a way it was his death that had given her everything. She would always love him and it was still sweet to her ear to be called Khaleesi.

Jorah was the man in front of her now. In her bed chamber.

Perhaps she felt as everyone else felt now. These were the end of days. Uncertainty was in the air. Life was too short to be alone on this night.

She meant to stop him.

"No." She said.

She gave a small smile.

"I don't wish to see it."

That was a lie. She had been intrigued. She wanted to know if it had truly been healed.

He stopped with rolling the sleeves of his tunic. To her surprise he stood and removed it.

She saw his arm. Grey and black and burned to the shoulder. That was as far as it had spread. Cracked and dry it reminded her of the elephants she had seen in Essos. Great grey beasts lumbering about with latticework litters on their backs with thick grey skin as Jorah's arm appeared to her now. 

Her eyes moved to his shirtless chest now and then down to the ground.

He moved to her. She wished to drink the wine once more but was frozen as he approached her.

He grabbed her hand.

"I assure you the Maesters have healed me... Sam and Archmaester Ebrose..."

His words were silenced when she touched his shoulder.

He did not flinch.

It felt as she had imaged it would. Rough and dry. 

Her fingers traced him. Moving down to his chest.

His body did not match his age. He was strong as any soldier, fit despite his years or illness. He was hairy as she supposed was common for Northmen. He as a Northmen.

Her fingers fell to his abdomen and she could tell perhaps he was nervous when his muscles flexed in a spasm as her fingers and suddenly his hand grabbed hers.

His hand was strong and engulfed her own. His thumb smoothed against her palm and she knew she wanted him.

"Jorah."

She said. There was a want in her voice. Vulnerability. She heard the way she had sounded and she hated hearing weakness in her voice. The weakness of loving someone.

It was never like this with Daario. She was in control then. And Yara -- that was different entirely. 

Jorah. She loved him. She never had thought about him in this way until he was in front of her again. Healthy. He had returned to her and she knew - this man would ride to the end of their world with her and never look back. She loved him for it.

She ran her fingers through his hair thin reddish hair and then pulled herself closer to him by wrapping her hands behind his neck as he held her by the waist.

"Khaleesi, I love --"

"Shhh she said. In response."

She silenced him with a kiss.

The kiss was passionate yet gentle. Sweet almost. 

His body was warm in the coldness of the Winterfell chamber. The fire warmed the air but it still had the crisp coldness of being in this climate. 

She pressed herself closer to him and the heat of his body. She felt the rise in his breeches that let her know he liked the closeness of her as well.

When their lips parted she smiled at him.

"I love you." He said. 

She smiled a half smile at him.

"Then show me." She whispered.


	39. Winter Falls

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jonsa Stuff.
> 
> Edited 7-14.

Sansa walked into the chamber.

She did as she had done on her wedding night with Tyrion.

She drank a goblet of wine and made her way to the featherbed. She sat and began to undress. Jon watched her. She felt herself grow nervous and a bit scared and she did not know why.

She began to unlace her dress as Jon came up behind her.  Just as Ramsay had done.  Her breath was shallow and she could feel her heart beat in nervousness.

He kissed the back of her neck and moved her hands away from her laces and turned her towards him from her waist.  He moved himself to sit next to her upon the featherbed and kissed her gently.

She let herself kiss him back.  Ramsay never gave her kisses like that.  Soft and slowly.  Considerate and sweet.  His fingers smoothed against her in soft circles at her waist and back.  He was patient. 

 _This is Jon_. she said to herself.  _It will be different._

She tasted the wine on his lips.  Or perhaps it was the wine on hers? 

His beard tickled her.  She liked it.

She grew more at ease the longer they kissed and tried to forget about her other wedding nights.

His hands touched her laces again and she felt her stomach sink in terror as she began to remember.  She remembered how Ramsay had ripped the dress off of her that night.  The first night she had been with a man and he had done that to her.

She froze.

Jon recognized this.

He retreated as he kissed her cheek and moved away from the bed

He was standing in front of her now.  Hands far away from her laces.

She was glad he had stopped but she found that still wanted him.  She was confused.  Wavering between wanting to make love to Jon this very instant and then retreat to the other bedchamber in terror the next.  

He pulled his own jerkin off.  

Her eyes darted to his breeches.  She wanted them off of him.  She wanted to see him but was still too unnerved to make a move for his laces.

He saw her look at him and he smiled at her and laughed.  

"My love." He said to her and when she looked up at his face she felt embarrassed again and smiled back.

_Surely it will be different with Jon._

She felt her face grow hot and flushed.

"Won't you help me with my laces?"

Her stomach sank.  She had wanted to loosen his laces but she did not dare move to touch him. 

_Was this improper?_

"Jon!" She said - not ashamed that he had asked but ashamed that she had wanted to.

He smiled and kissed her cheek.

"You think the Lady Jonquil never unlaced the breeches of her lover Florian?"  

Sansa's eyes moved to the ground - shy.  

But then he took her hand in his. 

He stood in front of her and moved her hand upon the laces of his breeches and released it. 

Curiosity won.  She felt the stiffness below the breeches and wished to see what was underneath.

Ramsay had never let her see him.  It would be too vulnerable for him she supposed.  He always took her from behind and she made sure to bury her face into her pillows and furs so she didn't have to see him anyways.  

 _Jon was different._  He was letting her be in control.

She felt the length of him again.  Hard under the leather and she began to untie the laces with great interest. 

She looked up at him.  His hands were at his side.  He didn't direct her or make her do anything she did not want to do.  He only smiled at her.

After what seemed to take an eternity to untie she released the breeches and they fell to the ground.  He stepped out and he was only in his linen clothes.  She moved worked her hand over him in his small clothes a few times. Perhaps still too embarrassed to see his manhood still.

She slid her hands under his small shirt.  She rose herself up with the shirt and began to slide his shirt up, feeling his abdomen and chest as she upwards  He raised his hands now.  Helping her undress him. She flung it to the ground in the pile of Jon's other clothes. 

She looked at him.  

 _Her husband._  

 

He was nearly naked as his nameday standing in front of her.  His manhood stiff as sword in his linen small clothes and she still had on the dress she entered their chamber with.

She looked down and felt too dressed for the occasion.  Perhaps she was ready to try again.

"Will you help me with my laces now, husband?"

He smiled.

"Aye, Sansa.  If that is what you wish."

She nodded. With that he moved to undo her laces.

He came up behind her and kissed her neck first.  Both standing and her breathing heavy - growing just as unsettled as she had before.  

He did his best to put her at ease.  He took his time and with great care undid the laces one by one.  He did not rip a single stitch.  He was so gentle.

It was not like Ramsay.  

_It will be different with Jon._

Sansa put that out of her mind and let herself steal a few more peeks of what she could see of his manhood,

She perhaps surprised Jon and herself when she reached for his cock and began to stroke his thickness over the linen small clothes.

He let her and Jon only responded by kissing her neck and as her dress finally fell to the floor.

She stepped out as he had.  She felt how wet her small clothes were and stepped out of those as well.  She was in only her shift.

Jon was in front of her now.  His hand slid underneath her shift and found the wetness of her woman hood.  

She felt his hand search her as his mouth found hers and kissed her gently.

His middle finger flicked softly at her.  Gently searching her making her grow wet at his touch.

It felt so good but her face grew hot again thinking of how her body must look to him.

_Had he seen her back?  Seen her scars.  Felt the marks on her thighs._

He moved his hand away and before she could get too deep into her thoughts she felt her knees give in and feet be lifted from off the ground.

Jon had picked her up again.  This time he had not thrown her over his shoulder but held her gently in his arms.

She wrapped her arms about Jon's neck.

"Let me love you."  He said.

She kissed him and nodded yes to answer.

He placed her gently on the featherbed and was on his knees at her feet.  His small breeches made a rather tent like formation from his erection.  She let out a giggle at the sight of it.

He looked at himself and smiled at her.  

She was surprised he had let himself go this long.  She had heard women talk about how it hurt a man to go to long.  Shae in Kings Landing talking of the nature of men and the other girls in the Eryie talked to her freely when they thought she was bastard-born.  Telling her about men and their cocks.  How men needed to spend themselves when erect or it would cause them pain.  How pleasurable it could be to lay with a man if he was a considerate lover but sometimes - oft times - it was not. She thought Shae was telling her this to ready her for Joffery.  She had only been with Ramsay and she never knew pleasure at his touch....only pain.

 _Jon will be different_.  

It already was different she thought. She brought herself back to the moment again. 

She looked at Jon.  How sweet he looked.  So handsome and strong.  

His hands moved up her leg and moved the shift up.  She was half naked and he looked right at her womanhood now.  He smiled when he saw her red maiden's hair was wet from where he had touched her before. She let her legs fall apart as he moved his hand up her thigh.  

He kissed the scar on her inner thigh gently. She let him.  Everything he was doing felt so good to her.  Her body ached for him more and more by the second.

His finger moved along her and then inside her again.  He worked small circles and then he slipped one in finger in her moving it about in a way that made her pulse in pleasure.  

She arched her back in looked back at the headboard.  She let out a small moan as she grabbed at some furs to steady herself.  She didn't understand how his touch could make her feel so good.

Her eyes met his again and he smiled a wolfish smile.

His one hand worked away at her still while the other hand moved up stomach and touched her breast.  He probably felt a scar on her teat and moved up removing the rest of her shift now.

She was on her back, him before her on his knees.  He looked at her and he moved his hands along her chest and traced some of the scars.  She had nowhere to hide now.

She reclaimed her breath.  She was saddened.  Embarrassed that she was not a maiden for Jon.  Her body was scarred from Ramsay and it was not good enough for Jon.  She looked down at the marks from his blades and felt her eyes begin to water with tears.

Jon brought her back to him though.  His hands moved to her hips.  Smoothed along her naked skin.  He touched her scars gently and kissed her chest where the cuts still were so deep that they had not healed as she had hoped.

He pulled himself back and looked her directly in the eyes.

"My love."

He said and she rose to her elbows and looked down at her body, wishing it were different for him.

"I will never harm you."

She looked down at herself and felt ashamed.

She only nodded and did not meet his gaze.

His finger lifted her chin.

"You are beautiful."

She smiled at him and let him kiss her tears away.

Soon she forgot all about how ugly she had felt.  Jon's touches made her want him so bad that it pained her that he still was not inside her.

She laid back and again let her legs fall apart.

Jon only laid himself back and moved his mouth to be on her now.

"Jon!" she tried to protest but it felt so good she only found herself moving her leg onto his shoulder as encouragement.

She felt peak coming and she knew that was what Shae had meant.  

_Pleasure was not only for the man._

When she came to her senses Jon was smiling at her.

He took a sip from the goblet on the bedside table.  

She gave a shy giggle and pulled him down onto her again.

"I don't suppose Florian did that though."

He kissed her neck and she arched her back in response.

He whispered in her ear now.  He asked her permission.

She only nodded in response.

He came to his knees again and made to take his bottoms off. 

Sansa rose to her own knees quickly and pulled them off before he could.

Releasing him herself.  She smiled at what she saw. 

She gave him a few strokes feeling the length of him in her hand.

"I don't suppose Jonquil did that either, My Lady Wife." He teased.

She did not care any longer.  What Ramsay had done or what ladies did or did not do in their bedchambers  It was just them now and she knew she needed him inside of her.

She laid back onto her elbows and moved her legs around his buttocks.  Encouraging him forward into her.

He came to his fists hovering above her and kissed her neck.  He held himself up with his left arm and slid his right arm underneath the small of her back. He lifted her into him and pressed their bodies together, moving them together in time.  When he entered her she took a breath and made gave a small wail.

He pulled back in retreat but she directed him in her once more with her legs.  She did not make a sound the next time he thrusted into her.  She moved in motion with him.  Working together.  She felt her peak coming once more.  Her eyes rolled her toes curled and she screamed his name - she thought she did anyways, she wasn't sure what really happened as her body took control from her mind.

Her peak came and went and when she came to her senses he was still inside her.  He smiled when her eyes found him again and she giggled as she began to work with him again.  

They grew sweaty and hot and Jon's muscles gleamed with the beads of sweat that came over him as he made love to her.   

He took her by her hips and suddenly she was pulled up atop him and he was below her.  She didn't understand but Jon showed her.

"Find your peak again my love."

His hands were on her hips and he moved them about so that she understood.  She rocked her body against him as his hands still guided her until she noticed it was Jon that was losing control now.  She felt herself coming again too. She moved about him to reach their release together.  

It came over her again and she realized that he had spilled inside of her as she fell ontop of him.  Exhausted.

She caught her breath and nestled into him to ease herself from what had just happened.

He whispered into her ear and gently traced circles on her skin and her curves with his fingers until she fell asleep in his arms.

It was where she was meant to be.

 _It was different with Jon._  

 

 

XXXX

 

  

She woke wrapped up in a sea of furs and tangled legs atop her husband's chest.

He was awake watching her sleep. He smoothed her hair behind her ear and kissed her forehead as he used to.

As he kissed her and she decided she wanted him at least twice more before they went to break their fast. She threw off the furs and looked down at her husband. He was already ready for her it appeared.

He began to kiss her and the air grew cold against her skin.

She withdrew from their kiss and saw the coldness of her breath in the air.

"Jon"

She said and the air felt as though it were ice around them.

How peculiar being inside the walls of Winterfell. The fires had hardly died down from the night before.

Then she heard the gates. The screaming in the yards. Winterfell was awake and someone was at the gates. Jon pulled himself from under her gently and looked out their chamber window. Sansa pulled a fur to her and looked at him confused. Then she heard the the horns. One horn - Northmen at the gate. Then Two Horns - Enemies at the gate. Then there was three. Three horns.

"Three horns Jon." She said.

She was confused. There had never been three horns.

Jon stood up.

"Three Horns for the Undead." he said.

He was dressed. He grabbed Longclaw from the table.

Sansa looked at her Husband.

"Winter is Here, my Love."

 

 

 


End file.
